Unexpected Grace
by Silverie
Summary: Dreams, loss and choices. Can music truly soothe the savage beast? - Months post Paris - Mirandy, femslash - M for language and more.
1. Chapter 1

No beta, just my brain. Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing these characters for a while for a jaunt into the lovely world of Fanfic.

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**Unexpected Grace - Chapter One**

It started as it always did with that gentle rocking motion and the lapping sounds of small waves.

Curled in a relaxed ball, she blinked blearily as her eyes opened and shivered with the dampness of the air cooling her skin. The simple tunic she wore was damp from the night. With a gasp, she sat up in complete confusion. The small boat shifted with her weight as she moved too fast, setting it rocking. She grabbed the sides and froze, staying right in the center of the tiny vessel until the movement stilled. Breathing shallowly, she cautiously looked around.

The small boat floated freely, the oar locks empty. She was alone, absolutely and completely alone. Light glinted off the water from a full moon, heavy in the night sky. Inhaling deeper, she smelled the sea, salty and full of life. She could taste that salt as she licked her lips. The boat was floating in a quiet cove, dark with the night. Her eyes scanned upwards seeing cliffs rising around her on three sides in a horseshoe shape. The sea stretched behind her with nothing in sight but open water as far as she could see. High above, the muted stars shone, wheeling overhead. The lapping sound of small waves echoed from the cliffs. The marks of high tide scarred the craggy stone of the cliff.

And then she heard the music, faint and so far away, drifting to her over the water. She closed her eyes and listened, thinking she knew that tune. If she could only concentrate harder, the words would come. Opening her eyes, she scanned the cliff top with a frustrated sigh. There, there was the source of the fading music. On a flat plain at the top of one of the lower cliffs, there was a small structure, lit softly from within, almost a temple of white marble, gleaming dully in the moonlight. She heard faint laughter and voices floating down.

Leaning forward, she dipped her hands into the water on either side of the boat, trying to row closer to that warmth and light streaming from above. But her attempts were futile, moving the boat an infinitesimal amount. She only succeeded in getting herself wetter than she already was with her useless splashing. Giving up in frustration, she drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

She scanned the verandah of the building facing over the cliff and saw a woman step out. The woman moved forward, escaping the light and noise behind her in the building. She looked back over her shoulder as if to make sure she was not followed. Her posture was erect and contained, and her face a pleasant mask of social acceptability. As she walked to the railing, the white tunic she wore trailed over bare feet on the stone surface. She moved with an easy, regal sense of sensuality and elegant grace in her gait. Reaching the barrier, the woman took a drink from the silver goblet she carried in one hand, draining it and put it down on the surface before her.

She stood, still and statuesque, the light of the moon streaming down upon her. The white of her draped tunic was stark in that light but could not match the startling silver-white of the fall of her hair. It caught the light as if tiny stars had nestled in its depths; a seductive glint that invited touch. The glimmer of a belt of golden links around her waist emphasized the gentle curves of hips and breasts. The sleeveless cut of the tunic draped slim, lean shoulders with lightly defined muscle beneath unblemished skin. Sleek thigh and calf peeked from a long slit in the tunic from hip to ankle along her left side. An anklet, a miniature of the links circling her waist, gleamed from where it rested.

The beauty of her face and body was that of a woman well beyond those first years of blooming. This was the beauty of a woman who knew who she was and how to get what she wanted through the force of character and drive. She was a woman not afraid of the world and it showed. Confidence and self-assurance dripped off her like diamonds in that moment, an almost habitual, casual arrogance.

Genetics had been kind, blessing her with classic lines of defined cheekbones, full lips, elegant planes of forehead and cheekbones. Small lines barely etched the corners of her lips and eyes, and the tiniest of frown lines had started to claim their place. Her eyes had the potential for deep warmth but seemed somehow empty, as if life had showed her too much of its shadow side.

The woman reached forward slowly, both hands gripping the railing, shoulder slumping as her face lifted to the moon. The sea blue of her eyes became hidden behind falling eyelids. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. With a last deep sigh, those eyes opened, showing the despair and loneliness of a deeply hidden vulnerability that few ever saw as her face lost that public mask. She simply stood, a solitary figure as the public persona was swept away in this moment of escape. One hand rose impatiently to brush, what might have been a tear away before it had a chance to escape. That same hand came to rest flat and pressing over her heart in the deep V of the tunic as if to massage an empty ache.

The woman's gaze broke away from that pregnant moon and she pushed away from the railing, straightening her posture as she did, letting go of that support. Looking down, the woman's eyes absently scanned the water as she gathered herself to return to the gathering inside. She caught sight of the lonely figure below adrift in the cove and knew herself seen in an instant of recognition. With a sharp inhale, those sea blue eyes darkened to a stormy shade and burned an icy glare into the face of the woman below, while the mask slammed down into place. Turning quickly, she strode angrily back into the building, the weight of her tunic whipping the air into a vicious wind, the goblet tumbling in its wake to the water below.

The figure below was frozen in place, her heart pounding as the woman disappeared. She barely heard the splash of the goblet as it hit the water not far from her. The beauty she had seen took her breath away and stirred an ache deep in her belly. But the ice of that glare burned into her with a sense of deep desolation. Never had she felt so alone, so unwanted and so very powerless. She knew she was forever exiled and would never be welcome in that place again. The warmth, the music, the laughter would never be hers.

Feelings of the greatest loss and abandonment washed through her. The pain was physically wrenching, drawing her into herself in a protective move. Tears, unnoticed, ran freely as her eyes searched the place where the woman had stood. She stared, hoping, almost praying that she would return. Force of will was not enough as minutes passed and the wind continued to stir the waters around her. Her head dropped to her chest and she knew there was no way to reach that woman. There never would be. This was her fate.

The clouds moved in with a faintest rumble of thunder. As the wind and waves rose around her, she huddled in the bottom of the boat, wrapping herself into a tight protective ball. Strands of wet hair fell over her shoulders as deep brown eyes squeezed shut. She tried to wish herself away, anywhere but here. A single word, slipped out in the quietest of whispers, "Miranda".


	2. Chapter 2

**Unexpected Grace - Chapter Two**

Miranda Priestly, Editor-in-Chief of Runway magazine and High Priestess of Fashion stood by the window of her office high above the city streets watching the people pass below, riding the tide of the traffic lights. There was a rhythm to that ebb and flow and she watched carefully. She was hoping for a glimpse of a certain tall, brunette figure. It had been weeks since she had had a sighting but still hoped, always hoped that she would catch a glimpse of that one buoyant spirit bopping along in the current.

Not finding the one she had hoped to see, if only for a moment, she looked up, scanning the towering cityscape. New York always reminded her of a hive-like version of the Grand Canyon. Flying in over the city, one saw deep caverns of earthy colors like soaring cliffs of all heights. Windows sparkled with the reflected light of the sun. The traffic and people flowed like water between those artificial cliffs to the flat expanse of ocean. The stone channels etched by wind and rain echoed in the underground tunnels of the subway system winding through the city.

This morning, the clouds were ominous, promising rain as low, far away thunder sounded. A few angled raindrops had just begun to hit the window with the growing wind. The flow of humanity thinned as people ran to get out of the rain. One arm crossed protectively across her middle while the other toyed aimlessly with the gold links of the heavy chain she wore around her neck dipping below the V of her white, draped silk blouse. Miranda let her forehead drop forward to touch the coolness of the glass, wishing that at least she had this much of her, that occasional glimpse from high above.

As the rain increased, she stepped back, honoring a power far beyond herself of wind and rain and meteorological energy. It still made her slightly anxious to be so enclosed, so high in this prestigious corner office fishbowl. Even she could not stare down a lightning bolt.

Her thoughts drifted to the past. It had taken years, decades for Miranda to get to where she was now. From poverty to riches, she had fought her way to the top. She may never have worn the crudely tattooed numbers on her forearm that her mother and so many others wore but the effects echoed through the following generation as if they had. Having survived the concentration camps after that vicious war, her mother was placed with a family in England and married once she came of age. An only child born late to her parents, Miranda grew up knowing she wanted more, so much more than the poverty and smothering protectiveness that surrounded her.

Scrambling bit by bit, she shed naivety like a serpent shedding an old skin over and over again. She slowly lost the innocent vision of a young woman who found passion in the touch and color of fabric and, even deeper, in the fashion that was created with it. With her eyes closed, she could name any cloth by its feel against her skin. She was a woman for whom color was an entire language only barely translatable into any spoken words. Designers swore she had a vision beyond that of an ordinary human in the spectrum of her sight, Dragon sight perhaps.

Besides art, she understood process and business and was able to merge all of these together with a brilliant mind, unforgiving drive and hard earned education. With time, she achieved all she had wanted. But there was a cost. She had bargained with her body, her mind and ideas, paid in friendships and in the gradual loss of the heart of the woman she was, all sacrificed on the altar of her ambition. With those shedding skins, she became brittle despite the thickening exoskeleton. Yes, she still had passion but it had become muted and tasteless. The once brilliant color of her life had washed out to a dull echo of what it once was.

Miranda found herself alone, separated by an increasing distance from others. Her intimate circle had shrunk to so few. Her parents were long gone. If anything, it was her daughters who kept her heart anchored. Marriages of convenience seemed her only possibility and they were simply a more demanding business relationship bound by contract and legal spider webs. And one more was gone with the last divorce.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her desk and sat, swiveling back to watch the rain, her face carefully facing away from the office door. She could name the stimulus that led to such introspection. She went through assistants like no one else, all those identical clones, loving the pretty trinkets and flashy jewels of the Dragon, wanting what she had but not able to pay the price of excellence demanded. Then there was that one, the smart one with that stubborn chin, beauty hidden behind hideous clothing, and those incredible eyes. The one she took a chance on, Andréa.

She had shaped and tuned and watched her grow into this sleek, efficient, beautiful, astonishing woman. She succeeded in every trial she was given with incredible resilience and resourcefulness. Yet over time, Miranda found herself caressing Andréa with her eyes, wishing it was her hands that could run through that thick hair, over silken curves. Besides the physical attraction, she was drawn to the warmth, intelligence, humor and compassion of this enigma. Miranda found herself simply caring and that caring starting to become more, a very dangerous more, an almost forgotten more. Looking at her own life, and this vivacious woman, she could not let her follow the same path. Miranda knew she had to drive her away.

Paris was the outcome. Paris, the city of love. But this was done from love. Miranda hardened her heart and made choices of words and actions that left Andréa one choice, and only one choice, the choice to walk away. And Andréa did just that, thinking it was her own decision.

Now, months later, in the quiet of the early morning, long before the bustle and hum of the day took over, Miranda swore, "Merde, merde, merde. C'est totalement fucké!"

She hardly noticed her shift into the language of her early working years. The tiniest frisson of fear crawled up her back. Letting Andréa go had cut deeply. The initial sharp pain had eased to a constant ache of a poorly set bone. Had she gone too far in sending her away and given up her last chance of finding a path back to her own humanity?

Miranda knew love was the anchor of a life. And oh, she did miss the warmth of laughter in the night, of hands finding all those aching places, of silken skin sliding, of tangled tongues, lips moaning, of slick wetness dissolving in orgasmic tsunamis. She missed the depth of caring in eyes that hid nothing, of love that was not afraid of truth and time, that forgave before forgiveness was needed. One particular pair of eyes was all she could imagine.

The thunder of the storm brought her back, the water running down the windows, a reflection of the tears she could not allow herself to have. She shook herself, running hands up and down her arms to warm them, telling herself there was no use in thinking these thoughts, allowing these emotions to surface. There was no use in mourning the impossible.

Miranda turned back to her waiting work, struggling a little harder than usual to put the professional mask back in place. She would survive this as she had all else, burying the broken pieces as deeply as possible.

But she could not shake the feeling of being adrift in an endless, unforgiving sea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Unexpected Grace - Chapter 3**

Andy woke with a gasp, half sitting up in bed, grabbing the edge of the mattress as she rose. Seconds later, a clap of thunder sounded outside, rattling the windows and setting her heart racing more than it already was. She hated thunder. It reminded her of all those storms that tore through the Ohio valley when she was a kid with an occasional tornado slipping through to terrorize the city.

She fell back with an exhausted sigh only to find her pillow drenched for the third time this week. Flipping the pillow over, nuzzling into the cool surface, she wiped the tears from her face in exasperation, saying to herself, _What the hell? This dream is making me absolutely bonkers._ She knew she had to deal with this damn dream. She'd been avoiding taking the time to sit down and write her way through it in her journal.

"Yeah, which is exactly why it keeps coming back. How thrilled am I to look this stuff in the eye?….not!" , she said aloud as she burrowed in to the warmth of the covers, pulling them over her head, not wanting to face another gray, rainy day in New York. Normally, she was one who, once awake, bounded out of bed, looking forward to the day. It used to drive Nate crazy. He had been a slow starter, wanting to take his time in moving into his daily routine.

Nate had moved out while she was in Paris, preparing for his move to Boston and a new position. She had visited him there only once. That part of her life was over. They had grown away from the college sweethearts they once were and the individuals they were becoming did not mesh. Different interests, different jobs, different expectations from life, all contributed to the demise of their relationship.

Andy was grateful for what they had had and how important they had been to each other. She knew that Nate had not been the great passion of her life. They had fallen deeply into like, called it love and had stayed together out of habit. She regretted that she could not have been clearer sooner and more honest with herself and with Nate.

She had become fed up with his constant snarky criticisms about her job and in particular, about Miranda. Andy had not understood his hatred of her boss. It seemed completely out of proportion to the reality of her job as Miranda's assistant. But the whole situation with Nate leaned on her guilt buttons and like so many other women; she had thought she could make it all balance. It was Nate who ended it finally, calling her to task for her inability to claim the choices she had made. She hoped that with time, they could be true friends again, after the last resentments faded.

Andy lifted a hand and gently stroked the pillow on the opposite side of the bed, a little wistfully. As much as she was glad of the change, she missed waking in the arms of a lover, coming into full consciousness surrounded by the warmth of another. She still slept on just one side of the bed, unable to claim the middle.

The bed was her pride and joy and her first major, new purchase. She and her friend, Lily had wrestled it up the stairs to its final resting place by themselves. Panting, they had fallen flat on their backs on the mattress after finally letting it drop into place.

Andy had laughingly teased Lily. "You're the first woman I've had in this bed."

Lily lifted an eyebrow and said with dead seriousness, "Dream on, baby! I'm no notch in your headboard. You'll have to wait until one of those lovelies you've been eyeing helps you break this in." Unable to keep a straight face, she poked Andy in the ribs and grinned, the years falling away like they were 13 again, sharing secrets at a sleep over.

Andy's jaw dropped as she realized her oldest friend knew what she had been struggling to tell her for quite a while. Tentatively, she asked, "Lil, how…..how did you know? Is it that obvious?"

Lily rolled to her side, laughing, and looked her in the eye with a gentle smile. "Andy-love, I've been watching your head whip around for the last few months whenever a pretty woman walks by. And when one of them smiles back? Well,….. I'm surprised you haven't run into a tree yet! And what's with that older woman thing you got going on there? It's like Earth to Andy time then."

Andy blushed and stared at the suddenly very interesting ceiling, wondering how the conversation had gotten to this point. Turning her head back to look at Lily, she said quietly, "I can't answer that. I don't know myself… it's just there."

Lily gently reached over and cupped Andy's cheek, saying, "I just want to see you happy, woman. I love you like a sister and that's what love is, wanting the best for those we care about. Whoever you find, just don't let her break that wonderful heart of yours."

Andy, overcome and almost wordless, simply threaded her fingers through Lily's and whispered, "Thank you."

Lily squeezed her fingers in return and then smirked."Ya might want to do something about that cougar hunting tattoo on your forehead though? Subtle much?"

"Huh?" Andy quickly let go and raised her fingers to stroke her forehead, before realizing she was being teased. Lily dissolved in laughter as Andy got it and gave her a quick, snappy little punch to her shoulder, exclaiming, " You!"

Now, the bed took up most of the room, clothed with the highest count linens she could afford, lush pillows and a cloud of a duvet. The mattress sat on a simple box frame close to the floor. It had been her haven until the dream started to destroy her nightly peace.

Throwing off the covers, Andy rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. She grabbed the worn, long sleeved t-shirt and sweats lying where she had tossed them and pulled them on over her lanky, naked and suddenly goose-bumped self as the cool of the room hit bed-warmed skin. Grabbing the duvet, her feet searched for slippers hidden beneath the bed to no avail. She dropped to her knees blindly reaching for them. A few dust bunnies, who had taken up residence when Nate's compulsive obsessive cleaning became a thing of the past, skittered away from her groping fingers.

Giving up, she rose and blearily padded barefoot into the bathroom. She flushed the toilet, the old pipes knocking in the building as they fought with gravity. She glanced longingly at the long claw foot tub with its overhead shower. Clean could wait for now.

She eyed herself in the mirror. Disheveled, long, thick, dark brown hair hung down past her shoulder blades and framed a slightly elven face of balanced features with generous, full lips that smiled easily and pale flawless skin. Arched eyebrows framed her eyes, accented by thick dark lashes. Her most expressive feature, her eyes were a dark, honeyed brown with golden orange streaks that unveiled when the pupils dilated. The graceful nose wrinkled as she frowned, taking in the shadowy circles of fatigue under her eyes. A careful index finger traced those dark invaders with concern. She eyed her somewhat sparse collection of makeup, glad she still had enough concealer for a few more days.

Andy washed her hands and finger combed her hair, attempting to restore some order to the unruly mass. Drops of water splashed on the thin t-shirt. She had an immediate flash back to the dream and that wet tunic clinging to cold skin as she stared at the silver-haired woman on the top of that cliff. Staring into her own eyes in the mirror, lost in that vision, her hands slowly drifted down her body, tracing her clavicles, palms smoothing down over her upper chest, fingers spreading over full breasts, nipples gathered into pebbled peaks with the press of soft cotton and down across a flat abdomen, tracing the center line of her torso. A wave of desire caught her unawares as her hips flexed toward the coolness of the sink involuntarily. A quick inhale yanked her back to the present and she muttered, "What the hell?" as she shook her head to clear it, letting her hands fall to her sides. She quickly turned and made her way through the door, entering the main room.

She shivered, pulling the duvet closer around her, tucking locks of hair behind her ears as stray strands kept falling in her eyes. She fervently wished the landlord would turn up the heat just a little bit more. As if in response, she heard the clunk of the old radiators as they came to life. Andy could hear the faint hiss of steam leaking from where they sat under one of the front windows and in the kitchen.

She let herself fall on the huge old leather couch that Lily had scrounged for her when the gallery she worked for redecorated. Tucking her feet beneath her, and wrapped in the duvet, she scanned the room. She had picked up pieces of furniture from thrift stores, replacing what Nate had taken, finding an eclectic blend of '50's style retro, antiques and a few modern pieces that she loved. The colors were earthy and peaceful, warming the small apartment. The walls were covered with old movie posters adding pops of color and cheery notes. Small pillows added additional bites of color in burgundy and an electric green.

Subtle lighting created focus in various areas, breaking up the uniformity of the wide open space. Natural light warmed the window seat that was her favorite reading and contemplation spot. Warm but scarred hardwoods gleamed in the light that poured in on a sunny day. For now, rain dripped down those same windows blurring the world outside. Muted city noise drifted up through the wavy glass panes.

Andy came home gratefully every day to this cozy nest she had created. At first, she had panicked when Nate deserted her, scared of how she would ever be able to cope on her own. But the financial security of a new job assuaged her fears. This was the very first place that was all her own. It was worth every penny she sacrificed to keep it.

With a jaw-cracking yawn, Andy stood and headed toward the kitchen. Nate had left with almost everything but at least she had a coffee maker, a toaster and a battered frig and stove that worked. She hit the switch on the coffee machine, already set up from the night before, and watched it drip, contemplating old sayings about watched pots.

Inhaling the rich aroma of espresso, she poured a mug full, added cream and grabbed the muffin she had bought from the little natural foods store on the corner. She picked up her journal and a favored pen and headed to the window sea, duvet in tow. As she passed her desk, she hit a button and a playlist of her favorite singer-songwriters came on at a low volume.

Curling into a corner of the window seat, she took a few tentative bites of the muffin and then put it aside, her appetite having disappeared. Holding the mug in her hands, she inhaled the steam, then sipped and swallowed with a little hum of pure pleasure. Setting the mug on the windowsill, she lifted the pen, bringing it to her lips, abstractedly chewing on the end. Opening the journal in her lap, she led her thoughts wander.

The dream had started about 6 months ago seemingly out of nowhere. At first, it came to her only once a month or so and she woke with just a vague sense of unease and faint remembrances of blurred images. Then it started to occur more often, coming once a week until now when it was becoming a daily occurrence. She felt stalked at this point and almost afraid to sleep as she remembered more and more of the details. It was so very vivid; it felt like she had lived it, more a memory than a dream. And that wisp of music teased her as she strained to remember it clearly.

Though the images, sounds and physical sensations haunted her, it was the emotional impact it evoked that was so crushing. The intensity of the dream was frightening and puzzling. She woke feeling she had suffered the most absolute loss, something that went so deep and was so impossible to reclaim. And with it, there was the heart wrenching desperate feeling of total rejection. Telling herself over and over again_, It's just a dream, just a dream... _did not help ease the pain, though she repeated it like a mantra. Waking up with Miranda's name on her lips felt like ripping a scab off a cut over and over again.

This had to stop. It was affecting her job. In the nine months she had been at the Mirror, she had proved her skills and dedication as a journalist. Her editor was moving her towards more interesting and independent stories. He had been particularly impressed by her ability to interview her subjects. Her warm, observant, listening presence opened up a level of comfort and trust in people that few reporters seemed to be able to accomplish. Her writing style was relational and invited the reader into her experience and vision of the information, the stories and the people she reported on. It was a rare talent that she had.

But falling asleep at her desk yesterday was just not the way to go. Her editor ordered her home out of concern for the fatigue and changes he was seeing over the last month. He instructed her to take a few days and get over this bug or whatever it was that she was struggling with. She had tried to convince him that she was fine. He adamantly refused her excuses and sent her home. It was why she was home this morning oversleeping on this rainy day.

Hammering things out on her computer keyboard might help but she preferred the tactile feel of ink on paper as much as the kinetic energy of physically writing. She paused and absently caressed the textured paper through her thumb and index finger. She stopped abruptly as she suddenly remember watching Miranda make that exact same motion as she unconsciously smoothed the clothes of the model during a run through.

Angrily, she started to write, the words scorching the page. The scratch of the pen on paper was loud in the room.

_This is really starting to piss me off…_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Just for clarification, the italics are passages that Andy is writing in her journal.

**Unexpected Grace - Chapter Four**

_This is really starting to piss me off….._

Andy shifted in the corner of the window seat, drawing the duvet a little closer around her. She bent one leg up and leaned her journal against her thigh before continuing to write. She loved the free flow of journaling with no worries about complete sentences or paragraph structure or any of that stuff. She just needed to get it all out. No one would ever read it anyway.

_This damn dream is messing with my life and my head…and my heart. Why does it cut so deeply? I can't keep waking up crying every day. It's a dream, not a memory. Why does it feel so real? How can I stop it? I have to make it stop._

_I'm a journalist, a reporter….so report, investigate. Get logical, think it through, find the threads and start pulling to unravel the knot. Why does it keep coming back? Usually things come back when we aren't finished with them, when something is just not complete. What's not finished? _

Andy stood and moved to sit before her computer. She googled "dreams" and started taking notes in her journal, trying to decipher the images in _her_ dream.

_Water: feelings of the subconscious surfacing._

_Waves: emotions rising to the surface. _

_Stormy, windy weather: conflict or being conflicted. _

_A woman: feminine power, sexuality, love. _

_Gold: determination and an unyielding nature. _

_Moon: hidden aspect of the self, new beginnings. _

_Rowboat: hard work and perseverance. _

_No oars: missing a partner in life. _

_Cliffs: reaching a critical point, losing control. _

Moving back to the window seat, she continued to write.

_There's a party high up in this beautiful temple on a cliff. I've been cast out and can't get back. But this makes no sense. I was the one that walked away from all the glitz and glamour of Runway. No one threw me out the door and cast me adrift. I decided. No one made me do anything. I walked away! _

_But what if the dream is not about me, what if it's about Miranda? _

The pen stopped moving and was slowly lifted to tap her lips as she looked out the window, holding the vision of that proud woman in her mind's eye. Andy said her name aloud quietly: "Miranda". The pen returned to paper as she looked down and began to write again.

_Miranda…..beautiful, so beautiful, so untouchable, standing in that moonlight until her face changes and there she is, a woman in pain, raw and hurting. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her and rock her and tell her how much I care and that it will all be ok…..and I can't. I can't reach her from where I am. Goddess! I've seen this for real that night her twins told me to bring The Book upstairs that first time I was trusted to make that delivery so long ago. Miranda and her ex were arguing. Oh gods, she was so angry with me for seeing that exposed hurt. I know she saw my sympathy. She almost got me with those Harry Potter hoops she made me jump through as payback. _

_But I survived and, I think, surprised her. I wanted to make her proud. I wanted to make her see me. I think she did. Hell, I know she did. I know her tells and she had a whole set just for me. I felt her look me over each day, for months, looking at more than the clothes. It was like having warm honey pour over me as those eyes scanned up and down, made my legs go weak. Her eyes would narrow, and she'd lick her lips in this hungry kinda way. Her fingers would shift the tiniest bit like she was just about to reach out and touch. Then she'd catch herself and sigh, looking quickly away, her jaw getting tense, hand clenching to her side, her eyes getting all flinty and looking for someone to pick on. _

_Hell, Andy, get real here. I was looking at her as much as she was looking at me all those months. She's so elegant, so beautiful, so brilliant, so strong …..so complex…and sooooo damn hot. And so impossible…an impossible dream. And my boss. My fucking boss! _

_Tried to shut that down with the old denial trick. How'd that work for you, Andy girl? Not very well, did it? Untouchable? You wanted to touch, and lick and nuzzle and …oh fuck! I wanted her. Talk about unfinished business. _

_And Paris….it happened again with that complete jerk of a husband, about to become ex. I saw her at her most vulnerable with no makeup, swollen eyes from crying, without the armor of the power suits and fashion to hide behind. She talked to me like she trusted me. All I wanted to do was pull her close, let her head fall to my shoulder and hold her while she let go. And she saw it, saw the caring, the concern, and the love and pulled up the force field._

_Do your job? Yeah, Miranda. I did my job and more. Made a fool of myself with Christian, didn't I. Tried to save your gorgeous ass later with what I learned. Should have known you had it all figured out, Miranda. _

_So I walked away. You said that everyone wants to be like us? I was never part of that privileged elite. I wasn't born to it, don't want it. I never wanted to be you. I wanted you….. not that life. I learned to appreciate the fashion industry from you but not its heartlessness. That's not who I am and never will be. I got lost for a while, sucked down the rabbit hole, an Alice searching for the Red Queen. And that would be White Queen in this case._

_Yes, you saw so much of yourself in me but I did not want to become you. I could never do what you did to Nigel, even knowing you would pay him back some day…..probably._

_I've needed this time to find myself again. To bring the strength and skills I learned with you and apply them to my own dreams of having an impact in the world. I've needed to reattach to my sense of what is important in the world for me, for Andy. And to relearn how I want to live in this world. And how and who I want to love. ...I know now. _

_But why is Miranda so furious in that dream? She's lost so many and trusts almost no one. I saw beyond the mask and didn't betray her trust. And me? I don't have a mask. Here I am with my big brown eyes wearing my heart on my sleeve. Well, maybe not so innocent anymore….and…_

"Wait a minute….." Andy sucked in a huge breath, "Fuck me!"

_Should have known you had it all figured out? You did have it all figured out. Ah, Miranda, you manipulated me, engineered this whole thing so I would walk away. I did not leave Runway, I left you, Miranda, exactly as you intended. I didn't walk away. You pushed me, forced me out of that car and out of your life. _

Furious, Andy stood, throwing the journal and pen on the floor and started pacing, talking to herself.

"What the fuck! How dare you, Miranda. And I've been feeling guilty for months for leaving that way. I left you high and dry. I should march right in there and give you a piece of my mind and…" she stopped suddenly in her tracks "and …I've missed you like I've missed no one else in my life."

She began to pace again, a little slower, thinking back. What would make Miranda do something like this? She froze as all the images ran through her mind in quick flashes coupled to the dream meanings she had found; feelings and emotions surfacing, hidden aspects of the self, missing a partner, doing hard things, fear of losing control, reaching a critical point, and love. Love….

The last time someone talked to her about love, it was Lily. Lily's words came flooding back," … that's what love is; wanting the best for those we care about."

Her voice caught as she murmured, "Oh Miranda, what did you do?"

"And now, what do I do?"

She needed to get out of the apartment, walk, get rid of this energy. She turned and moved to the bedroom, throwing on jeans and a black turtleneck, tying her hair back into a long pony tail. Moving toward the front door, she grabbed her bag, her battered leather jacket and her cell phone, and stepped into dusty low ankle boots that had already survived miles of city streets.

As the door closed, she was already dialing as she headed down the stairs and out the door. The call went to voice mail and she spoke urgently into the phone.

"Hey Nige. I know we're meeting tonight for a drink but could you come a little bit early? I need to talk. Just pick me up at rehearsal tonight like we planned and we'll head over to the bar. See you at 7:30."


	5. Chapter 5

**Unexpected Grace - Chapter 5**

Standing in the exact same place where she had been a few hours earlier in her office, Miranda crossed her arms over her chest and gazed out the window. Her eyes tracked the clouds as the wind swept them to the southeast. The storm would move off over the ocean and away from New York taking the rain with it. The sun was just barely breaking through, sending long ribbons of light streaming into the city.

Looking down, she saw the glimmer of the wet streets once again filled with the darting schools of pedestrians as they went about their lunch time hurry. She had given up on any Andréa sightings, knowing that such behavior had moved beyond futile and became simply a pointless indulgence she could no longer afford.

Miranda was not looking forward to her next meeting. She had spent the early part of the week in meetings with the CFO of Elias-Clarke, the parent company that owned all the magazines housed in the building. Quarterly financials were grim across the board. Runway was hit as hard as all the others. Sales were plummeting. Creative marketing and outreach to readers were having no impact. Readers were not renewing and new subscriptions were at an all-time low.

The effects of the recession and the slower than expected recovery were acutely felt. Potential readers were focused on the realities of life of which fashion was not high on their priority list. In addition, this negative trend was felt internationally and impacted all of Runway's sister publications.

Meetings between all the executive officers had led to difficult, necessary decisions. Today, announcements would be made to all upper management. Though she was comfortable with this aspect of her job, what she had to announce today was life changing for herself and her staff. Miranda could feel the tension in her neck and shoulders and the beginning of that stress headache that was too often a part of her day. She closed her eyes and rolled her neck in slow circles trying to relieve some of the tension. One hand lifted to massage one particularly tight muscle just at the hairline. She wishfully imagined other fingers performing that same task with a slight shiver.

At that moment, Emily knocked and entered the office. "The editorial team is gathered in the conference room for the weekly review, Miranda. Is there anything I can get you before then?"

Miranda straightened, not wanting her assistant to see her tension. "A glass of Pellegrino. You will attend this meeting and take notes. "She continued staring out the window, not looking at her red-haired first assistant before taking a huge breath in, holding it for a few seconds and then exhaling deeply, straightening her spine. "Let's go." She turned on her heel and headed to the conference room.

Surprised, Emily scrambled to gather her pad, pen, a copy of the agenda and the asked for water, before falling in behind her boss. She had not expected to be asked to join the usually closed session today. Once they reached the conference, she moved to sit in the back as she had in the past.

Miranda interrupted her movement and said, "No, Emily. Sit next to me during this meeting. We'll be covering some critical details and I want to make sure they are all recorded."

She turned toward the always dapper Nigel. "Nigel, could you bring up the prints from the last photo shoot as we start the meeting."

"Of course, Miranda. I've got them right here." Nigel settled next to her, opening his laptop to display the latest updates. He leaned forward with a look of concern, noting the stiffness in Miranda's face and posture. Knowing he would be forgiven for the question, he asked so quietly that the others could not hear, "Are you all right?"

She responded curtly, lips tightening, not meeting his eyes, "I'm perfectly fine, Nigel".

He looked at her quizzically. "We'll talk later. Perfectly fine is not what I see." Nigel settled back in his chair, folders ready in front of him.

She felt a small burst of irritation. Since Paris, Nigel had become more direct with her. It pushed the envelope of their professional friendship. "There will be time later, Nigel". Almost sub-vocally, she murmured as she focused on the group around her, "Gird those loins, Nigel ….. now."

Turning back to the business at hand, Miranda scanned the figures around the long mahogany table, this fashionably dressed gathering of her creative editorial team. They were all handpicked, brilliant at their jobs. She went out of her way to keep them on their toes, constantly challenging and provoking new ideas and new approaches. They were a proven team. All of them should be up to the challenges she was about to drop on the table.

The conference room was windowless and sound proofed. One entire wall was glass, viewing the hallway between offices. People avoided that hallway when this meeting was going on to avoid getting sucked into the maelstrom.

She interrupted the quiet chatter around the table "Quiet, let's get going. We're behind schedule. Emily, you'll be leading this meeting."

Surprised, Emily gamely stepped into the fray, leading the group through the agenda, keeping things running efficiently and on track. The meeting went ahead as smoothly as it ever did as the group reviewed the status of the current issues, each department reporting, trying to resolve problems and enhance the general quality of the upcoming edition. Miranda was oddly silent for the most part, her normally venomous comments at a minimum. The tension in the room increased as the participants worriedly looked at each other, waiting for an explosion.

Just before the end of the meeting, as Emily announced the final item concerning long range planning for future issues, Miranda interrupted, her voice, low and clear, "Put down your folders and notepads, and close your computers and iPads. Emily, that includes you. Nothing that I am about to say will leave this room in any form, written or spoken."

Miranda stood, smoothing her skirt as she came to her feet, brushing the fabric with a gesture of self-assurance. Steely blue eyes caught those of each individual around the table, one by one. "Let me remind you that you have all signed an iron clad Non-Disclosure Agreement. If you need to review them, do so. If it is discovered that one word of this is shared with anyone, you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. I trust that this is clear? "

Seeing the worried looks and furtive nods around the table, she took a big breath and continued." As most of you are aware, the entire publishing industry is in dire straits. Publishing houses of all kinds of content are closing. Book stores, printers, distributors, the corner newsstand; they're all disappearing like the dinosaurs we're all becoming. We're being replaced by electronic media. This is a simple truth. The reality is we change or we become extinct. "

The room had become deadly quiet, looks of consternation on the faces of those gathered. There had been rumors flying for weeks with the execs furtively dodging in and out of meetings. Executive flutter was never a good sign. Speculation had led to expectations of staff being let go, of salaries and benefits being reduced even more than they had been in this hurting industry, or in the worst case scenario, the magazine closing.

Miranda paused and took a sip from her glass before continuing. "Elias-Clarke has decided to take all its publications to a new online format as quickly as possible. This has far reaching ramifications. As the flagship publication, Runway will be the first to undergo this transformation."

"You, the people gathered at this table, will form the group that takes Runway into this future. You will be led by a team of three. Those individuals are, Nigel, who will become the Creative Director, Emily who will step into the role of Managing Editor, and a third individual, yet to be chosen, who will head up the technical communications team that will oversee this change and which will be embedded in all departments. I will be staying on as the Editor-In-Chief through the transition."

Miranda saw the stunned looks around the table including the absolute shock on the faces of Nigel and Emily. As small murmurs began, Miranda held up a hand, "I know you will have many questions. Emily will be distributing information by tomorrow covering the next steps in this process along with the timing for informing your staff later this week. A schedule of meetings will be included. You will receive a package asking you to evaluate your resources and your budgets and to establish the timetable needed to make this happen within your department. You also will be working with the international teams in this venture. We will be unifying content with specialty sections for each region. "

"We have nine months from today to produce the first interactive, multimedia based edition of Runway. This is an exciting, challenging time". She paused. "Welcome to the new Runway International."

With those words, Miranda moved to the door, "Take a few minutes to digest this before you return to your offices. Nigel and Emily, you're with me. "Striding out, she looked back over her shoulder and smiled as the tableau around the conference table gave way to surprised, excited chatter.

Reaching her office, Miranda said, over her shoulder, "Close the door." She sat with a relieved sigh and faced Nigel and Emily.

Emily jumped in, her mind and thoughts spinning." Miranda, you just….I mean….that was my name…..what the bloody hell are you going on about?"

Miranda lifted an eyebrow, half-amused. "Must I explain myself?... In this case,….. I shall. Emily, you're the best trained individual to manage the daily functions of this magazine. In the last few months, you have matured and proven your worth, handling every task pushed your way with great competence and increasing confidence. I need someone who knows this magazine like the back of their hand. That person is you. I wish that there would be more time to prepare you. But that is not to be. "

Miranda watched carefully as her words began to sink in and the realization of what she was hearing hit Emily. Her British resiliency came to the surface as she took a calming breath and listened carefully, eyes tracking Miranda's. Her posture straightened and despite her nervousness, she seemed to settle as the conversation continued.

"Your next step will be to spend half of each day rotating through each major department, deepening your knowledge and working with the managers to adapt to the needs of the new product. The other half, you will be managing the administrative shift that will be necessary to support this change."

"You will spend the next few days training our current 2nd assistant to take over the 1st assistant's role. You will then work with HR to find her replacement. This individual will offer assistance to us both. You'll take over the empty office right next to the conference room. It's being readied as we speak."

Reaching across the desk, Miranda handed Emily a thick folder. "This contains all the details we have right now. Please distribute the schedule and package that I promised to the management team by the end of today. You're scheduled with Finance first thing tomorrow to get up and running with our current status. "

Looking at both Nigel and Emily, "We have a meeting tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. with the existing IT team. You two will be coordinating the search for candidates for our new technical communications director. Pull together the committee you need for this. You'll want input from each department. There are some preliminary CVs in the folder."

"And now, let's move on."

Emily rose, saying, "Miranda, I will not disappoint you. Thank…..", Miranda lifted a hand and interrupted her, "Do not thank me", she said dryly, "I will not pretend that this is a gift. It's an opportunity and it will demand much of you, very quickly. Now, go…!"

Emily exited with a quick, "Yes, Miranda," closing the door behind her. A clear, "Oh my God!" could be heard as her footsteps faded.

The office was quiet for a moment while Nigel and Miranda looked at each other. Nigel was the first to break the silence. "Miranda, I will say thank you and mean it. I knew you would find a worthy place for me eventually after that fiasco in Paris. But this…..this I did not expect. I am stunned, simply stunned."

Miranda smiled. "I wish it could have happened sooner but nothing came to fruition. This is perfect for you and will give Runway the continuity it needs, my friend. You deserve this position and have earned it. I could not share this with you sooner, everything is happening so fast. I'm bound by the same restrictions as the rest of us."

"This must have been hard for you, Miranda. Runway is yours. I understand….but… "

"Nigel, what you're hearing are my suggestions, my conclusions about what's best for Runway. All children grow up, Nigel. You can't hold them forever. Hopefully, they've learned to fly before leaping off tall buildings. This will be a very tall building. "

Nigel looked at her worriedly, "What does it mean that you will be Editor-In-Chief through the transition? Only the transition?"

Miranda turned her seat so she was not directly looking at Nigel." It's time. I've thought long and hard about this. I'm not the one to lead this magazine into this new age. I've established a standard of artistic and editorial excellence that is the foundation of Runway. But flexibility is not my strong suit. All this new media requires…pliancy. Others need to take the lead. I will stay in some role, gradually decreasing my involvement, coaching, helping artistically, perhaps becoming a consulting editor. This change in my role will not happen overnight but over months, perhaps years."

She turned back to look him in the eye, letting the fatigue and stress show momentarily. "I'm adrift...almost drowning, Nigel. I've given my life to this. It's time I reclaimed that before it's too late and there's nothing left of me. I've paid a high price and despite all it's given me, all the joys as well as the sorrows, I've lost too much. I've lost too many. "

"There once was a young woman who strolled through the streets of Paris, who loved and lived and dreamed of designing beautiful things. I want that to be more than some forgotten fairy tale. I'll love my children and breathe life back into that part of me. I need to find that passion again. It'll be a life worth living, even alone."

"Miranda, alone? Whatever you need to do, you have my support, always. I've watched you fading over the last months, since Paris. Something changed. You've lost weight. You seem to carry an edge of fatigue that doesn't go away. Perhaps those that don't know you well don't see it, but I do. I've been concerned, very concerned. Whatever happened shook you deeply. The only thing I've been able to connect that to …..is….. Andy's leaving."

Andy had quickly become special to him as she blossomed in her past job at Runway. Nigel thought of himself as her fairy godfather, without the pumpkin and with permanent results. He had caught the furtive looks and dreamy stares she had tried to hide. Miranda was better at hiding her interest in Andy. But neither woman could hide from him. A visual artist sees everything. He knew them both too well.

Paris had been bloody for all involved. It had taken him time to let go of Miranda's scheming to get to a place of trusting her again. He had blamed her for all that gone on that week ending in Andy's leaving.

Miranda sighed and decided it was time to share some of this with someone before she imploded from trying to hold it alone. Her voice fell low and sad, "What happened? I sent her away is... what happened. I pushed her out of the limo and out of my life without her ever guessing that I had manipulated her into walking away...…as much as it hurt to let her go. I had no choice."

"I want everything for her, all that she deserves and that's not me. It's impossible, so clearly impossible. It's enough to know she's out there in the world, living and breathing and with a chance at happiness. But not with me. She's young and beginning and….. I am ….I am not what Andréa needs in her life, as much as my heart wishes it could be otherwise. "

Coupled with the resolute finality that Miranda expressed, the sorrow he saw was painful to view. He respected this woman as he did few others in his life. Their long working relationship had allowed him to see glimpses of the woman beneath the Dragon skin. He had been wrong in his blame and had never seen the end game that Miranda was running and that troubled him.

It was a delicate dance to reach through Miranda's fierce independence and extremely private nature. He cared but knew any suggestion of sympathy would be quickly turned away. He reached forward, wrapped her hand in his larger one and squeezed gently. "There is always hope, Miranda, always."

He saw her pull back at his touch as she murmured," Not this time...not this time.", as she withdrew her hand from his." I have a lot of letting go ahead of me. Andréa was only the beginning."

Miranda visibly shook herself, the business persona slipping into place, "And enough of this. We both have an enormous amount of work to do." She paused, "Thank you, Nigel."

"You are most welcome, Miranda. If there is anything I can do, just ask."

He rose and started for the door before turning back. Perhaps it was time for the fairy godfather to step up to the plate again. Couture was not all he had in his toolbox.

"Oh, and I'm expecting you this Saturday at my party at La Nuit Sombre. I sent you the invitation weeks ago. Send the girls to their father for the weekend. Come out and play, Miranda. This is not a formal event, no air kisses and empty conversation, no designer gowns. It will be casual wear, French food, music, with fascinating people: writers, artists, designers, entrepreneurs, a couple of drag queens dressed better than all the rest of us put together, people you will want to know and a few you already do. It may not be a stroll along the West Bank but it's as close as you are going to find in New York. I know you probably won't stay long but it will be good to see you there and you know how you love my parties. "

"I need to know one thing, Nigel," Miranda said, her eyes looking down at her hands, holding firmly to her self-control, "I know you and Emily talk with her, see her. I've overheard….things. Will she be there? I can't…..see her, be around her…I just can't. " Her eyes lifted to search his face for truth. "It's just too much right now…maybe with time."

"No, don't worry. She sent her excuses saying she had to work over the weekend", Nigel said without a second of hesitation, shaking his head for emphasis, while saying to himself_, That is until I convince her beautiful ass to show up._

Exiting the office, he gave a frazzled looking Emily a wink and made his way back to his office, thinking hard. He had just been handed his dream job. The party would be an unexpected celebration. And now, he had a lot of work to do.

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of an incoming voice mail. He dialed and listened, internally adjusting his schedule to meet with Andy earlier_. Need to talk, do you Andy? We shall see. Something is going to change._

_Gird your loins indeed, Miranda._


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Merci à Weez for her beta'ing and edits.

* * *

**Unexpected Grace – Chapter Six**

Footsteps pounded on the wet pavement as Andy struck out across the city. She was headed to the closest MTA subway station. She sat on the hard seat, thinking, rethinking, fuming, dreaming, and found herself getting off her at old stop in Midtown near 6th Avenue. Without even thinking, she headed toward the Elias-Clarke building as the sun started to break through the clouds. Her anger drove her recklessly toward her destination, Miranda. As she got close, she looked up at the gleaming windows. For a second, she could have sworn she saw a familiar figure in the window of a corner office high above but after a quick blink, when she looked again, there was no one there.

Suddenly, her phone in her bag vibrated indicating she had just gotten a new message. She struggled to fish it out. Finally finding it, she read, _C U – 7:30, big news - N._ Big news? Andy wondered what that could be about and if it would have anything to do with Miranda, or if she even cared at this point.

She stopped, rethinking her original intentions. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go in there guns blazing. _That would go over so well with Miranda, right? Uh-huh_. Yeah, only if she wanted to see her morph into the Snow Queen in a frosty split second. That would certainly close things down fast and she knew that was inviting disaster. Andy wanted to open a door, not have one slammed in her face. She needed some time to think this through, find an approach that would work. Some clarity about what the hell she did want at this point besides telling her off would be a really good place to start.

_Damn it, woman, you know what you want. Just one thing…her, you want Miranda. _Her inner imp cackled merrily. _The real question is how you're going to entice her, pull her in. That's what we have to figure out…. eh, my pretty?_

With a huff of annoyance, Andy turned away from the building and headed south. Her stomach let out a loud feed-me-now rumble. She thought hungrily of that muffin she had set aside earlier and knew she had to eat something, and soon. She passed a coffee shop, decidedly not Starbucks, which she avoided like the plague. Ducking in, she grabbed a whole grain bagel and a coffee, and headed on, steps eating up the pavement.

She stopped for a few minutes on a bench in Madison Square to eat and ponder. By now, the sun had pushed aside the clouds. She lifted her face to the warmth for a few minutes, unzipping her jacket. She heard the rustle of leaves overhead in the trees as the light breeze tossed them gently. A few remaining drops of rainwater fell from the trees on her upturned face.

The long walk had dissipated some of the energy of the morning's discoveries. She took a few minutes to distract herself, indulging in one of her favorite pastimes, people watching. She watched a young skateboarder wipe out as he tried a trick he obviously was not ready for. Two older men were playing chess on the bench not far from her. Children were perched on the park swings, their laughter echoing. A young mother pushed twins in a double stroller. She found herself wondering what Miranda was like when the twins were that young and smiled to herself. A second later, she frowned, _Damn, I see her everywhere._

She was interrupted by her phone ringing. Knowing the ringtone and exasperated by the interruption but wanting to be polite, she answered, "Good morning, Nate."

"Hey Andy, how's it goin', babe?"

"Not your babe, remember? Little busy here, Nate, what can I do for you?"

"No need to get snarky with me, just being friendly here. So are you seeing her yet? "

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Who?"

"Miranda ….are you seeing her yet", he said slowly, enunciating every word.

"Oh, we're back to that again. First, it's none of your business who I see. And the answer is, no!" Andy could not keep the annoyance out of her voice.

His voice gentled, "Andy, listen to me. Why do you think I got in your face so much about her? I was jealous, like duh. I told you that the person whose calls you took was the one you were in a relationship with. What did you think I meant? And … I've known you were bi from the beginning; we talked about it, camp and all that. "

"I never thought about your comment. Thought it was pretty weird at the time. Should have but… didn't. …or couldn't. Maybe, it was pure denial, I don't know….and I've moved way beyond bi at this point, Nate, just so we're clear."

"Well, I just give a damn, believe it or not. Lil said you were looking tired these days. I thought I would just check in with you….. and hey, I am seeing someone. Remember that sous-chef in the restaurant I'm working in? She's pretty cool. I bet you'd like her.

"Maybe I'll get a chance to meet her some time. I hope this goes well for you."

"You too, Andy. Take good care of yourself."

"Hey Nate, wait…wait...did you ever find… her…anywhere? I know we looked when I visited but I keep hoping she'll turn up."

"You mean that damn guitar? I've apologized a zillion times for that Andy and no, I haven't found the guitar. It disappeared from the pawn shop in the first week. It's long gone."

"Damn, I just kept hoping….. hope someone is giving her a good home. I'm still pissed at you for this. Gotta go."

"Ok. Sorry for the zillionth time plus one. Bye Andy. Talk to you again in a few weeks."

"Bye, Nate."

She hung up with a sigh. Talk about resentments, this one was hard to forgive. An empty guitar stand occupied a corner of her apartment. Andy avoided looking in that lonesome corner as much as she could. The guitar that used to sit there was long gone. It had been a second hand Martin, not worth much but it had meant everything to her. Nate took it when he left, claiming it was his. He had pawned it in Boston. And now it was history.

She had kept her eyes open the last months as she walked the streets of New York, scanning music stores and pawn shops, hoping she could find a guitar she could afford. She hadn't found anything yet and the band had a gig coming up at a local bar in a week and a half. They had just started playing out in the last few weeks after months of just getting together and jamming for the fun of it. She sang the vocals in her trio with her friends Doug on bass, and Michael, playing guitar. They had a rehearsal coming up this evening.

She missed playing guitar. She and Doug had played together during college, hitting coffeehouses, open mics and bar gigs. They were well attuned and their friendship supported their musical partnership. Michael slipped smoothly in the mix like he had been there all along.

Music had been one of those private places, along with writing, that kept her safe and centered. The music and writing had blended together in the creation of a handful of songs. She never played those songs for anyone. They were too…private.

"Well, fuck! I'm going to use this energy to do something for myself. I can figure out this stuff with Miranda later", she said aloud as she got to her feet, throwing her trash in a bin on the edge of the park. She stretched and started walking again, making her way into Greenwich Village. There was a music store on Bleeker Street she had been in before. It was time to check it out again.

The bell on the door tinkled merrily as she entered. The shop was filled to the ceiling with guitars. They lined the walls and sat on the floor in stands. The electric guitars were up front, in all their delicious colors, sparkles and shapes, surrounded by various sizes of amps. A young woman with vivid purple hair was ripping notes up the neck of one flaming red electric guitar while a teenager watched her, a little in awe. Andy listened for a few minutes and then turned to move deeper in the store.

Closer to the back were the acoustic guitars. Her eyes caressed all the beautiful feminine forms, noting mellow woods and steel and nylon strings gleaming from the overhead lights. She smiled a huge grin, closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of music waiting to escape. Her fingers itched to play some of these babies. Her eyes snapped open as she heard a voice greeting her, "Hello, I've seen you here before. Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm just looking, make that drooling. Is it OK if I play a few?"

"Sure, go ahead. If you need help getting something down, just let me know. I'm Tom, the owner."

"Thanks, I'm Andy", she said smiling fully, holding out her hand to shake his.

Andy picked up a guitar that had caught her eye. She sat down on a close by stool putting the guitar over one leg, tuned it and started to play. It was a sweet instrument and handled well as she put it through its paces.

Tom watched and listened, impressed by her skill, and her attention to the instrument. He had been keeping his eyes open for a special someone.

Andy stopped playing. She hadn't looked at the price tag on purpose. It drew a little gasp when she did. _Well, at least I got to try it_, she said to herself. Reluctantly she put it back with a little caress. _Reality check… bye Beautiful_.

"Tom, do you have any used guitars I could take a look at? I just can't afford this though I would love to own something like her someday."

"As a matter of fact, Andy, I do. I think I have a something for you. Just a minute, it's in the back. Be right back….."

Andy sat and waited, saying to herself,_ I guess this was a long shot. I'll have to just keep saving until I can afford one of these beauties or at least their second hand well-loved sisters_. Somehow she always thought of guitars as female. Maybe it was all those beautiful curves and temperamental personalities, kind of like Miranda, she thought with a pang.

Tom came out of the back with a case that carried a few nicks and bruises. He clicked upon the catches and pulled out an instrument, passing it to her.

"This guitar belonged to a friend of mine. He was a singer and a songwriter and a beautiful soul. He was also a luthier and built a handful of instruments every year, just a few. This is the one he refused to sell. You don't find instruments like this anymore. Luthiers can't even get these woods. They're endangered and protected."

Her heart caught when he handed her the guitar, turning it in her hands, admiring the beautiful grain of the wood, barely marred. She was a work of art. Her hands caressed the sleek curves, shiny and satin smooth beneath her palms. The front of the guitar was a sunburst with deep blue around the sound hole that bled to jet black at the edges were black purling covered the joints. The most amazing feature was the inlay. Silvery abalone gleamed from the top eight frets where a silvery, stylized dragon had been inlaid into the dark ebony of the keyboard. Its tail roamed all the way up to the top. The sound hole had an answering circle of abalone around it.

How could a guitar be so…sleek, so…. sexy? It reminded her of blue flame, the hottest part of a fire. Her fingertips delicately traced the dragon. She smiled ironically, how beautiful She is there. She placed it across her thigh and began to play. Rich chords and delicately picked notes surrounded her and she closed her eyes in appreciation. The guitar sang to her of whispered wind and rain nurturing the seeds of the trees that birthed her, of the hands and love that had built her and caressed her, and of all the songs and music that lingered and poured from her since her birth. Andy hummed to herself as she listened to the guitar sing its story to her. Quietly she began to sing, her rich tone and that of the guitar blending magically.

As she finished, she sighed and opened her eyes, "Tom, thank you for letting me play it. I think you have spoiled me forever. She's a beautiful, beautiful guitar."

Tom smiled gently at her, "Got a dollar?"

"Uh, yeah? I've got a dollar, why?" She looked at him quizzically.

He said softly, "Let me tell you the rest of the story. My friend died of cancer last year. He'd been in remission for years. But it came back and ….that was that. He kept this guitar until the end. It brought great comfort to him. This was his personal instrument, the ones he wrote his songs with. Just before he died, he made me promise to watch for the right person to give her to. He told me that I would know when I heard them play her. Others have tried her but the fit wasn't there. She sings when she is in your hands."

"He was adamant about three stipulations. One, she costs a dollar. Everything has a price. Two, you have to promise to write songs with her. She's a restless muse that needs to be fed. And three, when it comes time, you pass her on as she came to you, to the next right musician."

He paused, and with the warmest of smiles, looked her deep in the eyes." If you want her… she's yours."

Andy looked at him totally speechless. "Me? I'm the one? She's mine?All mine? This beautiful guitar is mine?"

"Yes, Andy, she is."

Putting the guitar down carefully, she launched herself at Tom, her eyes teary, hugging him hard. "Oh, thank you, thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. I'll treat her so well and change her strings and polish her and …..write songs with her and come back and sing them to you. And …I'm so sorry about your friend." Her voice ended on a wistful note.

He hugged her back, a little awkwardly. "I have one thing I would ask of you. His name is written on the sticker you can see through the sound hole, just under his brand, Dragon Dreams Guitars. Just think of him from time to time. A bit of his spirit is in that guitar. I know he would be happy that you two found each other. Ok?"

He placed the guitar in its case and led her to the cash register where they solemnly exchanged Andy's dollar for a receipt. "There's an extra set of string in the case for you."

Tom escorted her to the door. "Nice meeting you, Andy. Now, you two come back and see me."

Andy found herself on the street, guitar in hand, slightly shell-shocked. Noticing her long shadow on the sidewalk, she realized she had spent hours in the shop and it was late afternoon. She and the guys were practicing at a church not far from here. Doug's apartment was close by and he had managed to get them approval to use a room for free, every week.

She made her way to the church and went down to the basement room where they would be meeting. She was early and had a little time to wait before the guys made it. She flipped the light switch, wincing at the institutional puce green of the walls and blinked in the harsh fluorescent lights. There were just a few chairs in the room. She took off her leather jacket, placing it on the back of one of those chairs, rubbing her arms to warm up.

Andy ran a hand over the case before opening it and just stared at the guitar nestled in the black velveteen interior. _I cannot believe this has happened. _She peered into the sound hole, reading the name written there_. Thank you, John Daniels of Dragon Dreams Guitars. I'll remember you. _

Picking up the guitar, she murmured, "Come to Mama, precious." She ran her hands over the curves, caressing the wood, the silky feel of the finish. Again, her fingertips traced the dragon from tail to head. "You are as gorgeous as the one you remind me off. We're going to make beautiful music together. I can't wait to find the songs waiting inside you." She began to play, little phrases from different songs, moving in and out of them, delighted. Finally, she tuned the guitar down to an open tuning and strummed, hearing a rich dark chord echo back to her.

"You like that, do you?" She improvised moving up and down the fret board in different chord positions, entranced by the depth of tone and voice. She found herself picking out a tune, almost baroque in its melodic line. _That sounds so familiar, where have I heard that before?_ Try as she might, she could not remember and the notes drifted elusively away from her.

"Hey Andy!" Doug called out as he and Michael entered carrying their instruments and amps. "You finally replaced your guitar?"

"Yes! You're never going to believe what just happened to me." She went on to explain how the guitar came to be hers. She handed it to Michael who turned it in his hands looking it over before playing a few chords.

"My God, Andy do you know how much this must be worth? This is a phenomenal instrument. I'm jealous." Michael said with a wink.

"No idea. But to me, she's priceless." She returned the guitar to its case. She'd need some more time playing her before adding her into their mix. "Let's get going, guys. We've got that gig coming up next week and a few things we need to iron out in some of the songs."

They played for the next hour and a half working through their set of light jazz covers, a few classics, easy pop and contemporary folk. Andy's voice sparkled with Doug and Michael adding harmonies. Doug drove the rhythm with the bass. Michael's guitar work was solid, filling in notes and adding some flash here and there. They loved playing together and it showed. They had just finished their last song when they heard applause. Turning, Andy saw Nigel leaning against the door frame applauding, a huge smile on his face. He was a little early meeting Andy and had followed the music to where they were in the building.

"I'm going to have to start calling you Six Strings, instead of just Six." Nigel wrapped her in a quick hug, "I had no idea, you were so good. I mean, I knew you sang but…..I am utterly amazed."

Nigel thought for a moment of his plans to convince Andy to show up at his party. "You know what? You've got to come and play at my party Saturday evening, no excuses. You'd be perfect. They've got a small stage and a sound system, everything you need. Just do some of the songs you just played."

"Uh, well…..I'm not sure we're ready for that. What do you guys think?" Andy's face showed surprise at the invitation. Concern rolled through her as she knew Miranda usually made at least an appearance at Nigel's parties. She'd have to ask him if he knew if she was coming later when they were alone.

"Sure. Let's go for it, small venue, relaxed, just our style. Sounds good." Doug nodded. Michael spoke up saying, "Yeah, sound good to me. Free food and drinks for the band?"

Nigel smirked, "Actually, free food and drinks for everyone. This is not a frat party, dears. I'll email Andy all the info and she can pass it on. Oh, I'm so thrilled. I want you all in black, pants and shirts for the guys. And I'll find something for you, Andy and message it over on Saturday."

Doug pouted teasingly, having met Nigel before and being well aware of his fashion magic, "Why does she get all the goodies?"

Nigel gave him a once over, twirling a finger to make him turn around. "I think I can do something with that. We'll see what we can arrange, Doug ….and Michael."

Minutes later, Andy waved goodbye to the guys, guitar in hand. Nigel waved down a cab and they headed to the bar, within walking distance of his condo.

The bar was half full tonight. Single men and women were scattered around the room, with couples bunched together at the tables. A few heads turned as they came in. Nigel and Andy headed toward a booth in the back, where it was a little quieter and the music did not intrude. As she strode by, a woman sitting at the bar reached out a hand with a whispered, "Hey sugar…looking sweet tonight. And what`s with the guitar?"

Andy laughed. "Mary, you`ve been hitting on me every time I come in here. What's your wife going to think?" she said eyeing the woman sitting next to her.

"She's going to think I'm crazy not to try. Plus, she's hoping for a threesome." She winked, earning a smile from the woman at her side, who said to Andy, "Don't worry. She's harmless. Though mmm mmm" ….scanning Andy head to toe …"maybe she's on to something there."

Blushing, Andy responded with a smile in her voice, "If I'm ever interested, you two will be the first to know. See ya later."

As they sat, Nigel smirked and said, "Popular these days?... eh, Andy?"

"Hey, they've been together forever. They love each other like crazy and flirt with anything that moves, anything female that is."

As they sat, a waitress sauntered up to the booth. As always, she caught Andy's eye as she took in the tight low cut jeans held up by a thin silver studded black belt. She was obviously braless with full, firm breasts accented by the slight spread of her white tank top that exposed a few inches of midriff, a small gold ring glinting from the rim of an innie belly button. A studded leather bracelet circled her right wrist. Her hair was short, a gleaming, slicked back thick platinum. Her Doc Martens boots were scuffed from long wear and one had a loop of silver chain circling the ankle. Her eyes were a dark blue, and an eyebrow sported a small gold hoop. She leaned casually against the table. "Hey there, Andy. Missed you around here. What can I get you tonight?" A silver flash of a tongue stud showed as she spoke.

"Hi there, Lynn, haven't been a round in a while. Been busy." Andy edged back in her seat just the slightest bit, not wanting to encourage Lynn's obvious interest.

"Am I invisible here or something?" Looking peeved, Nigel spoke up, ordering a white wine for Andy and a scotch on the rocks for himself. Lynn disappeared toward the bar with a slow wink to Andy. As they waited for their drinks, Nigel decided to share his day with her. "I know you wanted to talk and I just have to tell you what's going on. You remember your NDA goes for three years? I can't tell you everything but I can tell you some. There are some big changes on the way…." And he proceeded to catch her up on events at Runway.

"Congratulations, Nigel. No one deserves this more than you. Emily must be frantic and thrilled and just about having kittens by now."

Nigel had decided that he did not feel right betraying Miranda's trust in him concerning her feelings for Andy. But that did not mean that he wasn't going to set the stage and stir the pot. "I'm worried about Miranda, Andy. She seems so adrift, to use her words. She sounds ready for the change but I'm concerned. It's like she's given up somehow at some fundamental level, given up on being happy in this lifetime almost. I've known her a long time and she's never reacted this way. Not the divorces, her mother's death, any of that. I've never seen her like this. She's just not been the same since Paris."

Andy flinched. "I've been having this horrible dream, Nige. It's been so achingly painful and I see her…..almost every night now in that dream. I see her lost and alone and it breaks my heart. I know what she did in Paris. I know she cares. I know I have to do something. And I have to do it soon. I don't know if there is any chance but I have to try. God, I miss her ….so much. "

"She'll be there; I knew you were going to ask. Miranda will be at the party and now, so will you. It's going to be up to you, Andy. Tomorrow's Friday, the party is Saturday, think fast and be ready. I'm sure you'll have a chance…if you take it." Nigel reached across the table and covered Andy's hand. "You can do this, Andy. She is, after all, only human… well, we think she is anyway." he said, with a smirk.

"Human? All woman, every single delicious molecule of her. And I'm working on it, Nige, believe me, I'm working on it. She has to come to me …..that much I know. She was the one who pushed me away. She's got to make the choice and come to me or it will never work." Worried but determined eyes held Nigel's as she gently squeezed his hand before letting go and leaning back. "Thank you, Nigel."

"Don't thank me, this is purely unadulterated self-preservation. The black hole of need and loss that floats around the both of you is starting to engulf all of New York City," he snarked. "Seriously, Andy. I can see you both love each other. Someone has to make a move here and that someone….is you, my dear. I'm just setting the scene."

They were interrupted by the delivery of their drinks. Lynn leaned over to put the drinks down, breasts rubbing against Andy's upper arm as she did, running a wet fingertip over the back of Andy's hand. "I thought you were going to call me?"

Distracted, Andy looked up feeling an unwelcome awakened erotic tingle. "Lost your number and had no way to get it."

Andy had a flashback to two months ago. She'd been coming out of the bathroom, about to head home, and ran right into Lynn who had been balancing two boxes as she headed toward the basement stairs. Andy had gallantly offered to help her and took one of the boxes.

Since leaving Runway and breaking up with Nate, Andy had been out there, restless, dating but not wanting anything too deep, too soon. She'd been hitting the bars, getting picked up and picking up women herself for brief encounters. It satisfied the desire she had, but never for long. She'd seen women disappearing downstairs with Lynn off and on for a few months. Her offer was driven by her curiosity and an uneasy edge of attraction.

At the bottom of the stairs, Lynn unlocked the door from a ring of keys hanging from her belt. She opened the heavy door and flipped the light switch, saying with a low laugh, "Welcome to my dungeon." Andy followed her through the door, hearing it close behind them with a dull thud.

She took in the dingy, cool basement storage area, a single exposed light bulb swinging from a stark black electrical cord lighting the space. The air was musty. Shelves held various supplies, napkins, drink coasters and sundry supplies. A couple of chairs were heaped in a corner while three small tables ringed them in. Lynn took the boxes and placed them on the shelves.

"Does that door lock behind you when you come in here?" Andy asked, casting a glance behind her.

"Uh-huh, sure does, Darlin'" She felt a slight stirring in the air as Lynn turned and took a step closer. "You look so hot in that leather jacket...and even hotter without it, I bet."

Lynn's hand went to the zipper and slowly pulled it down. Her hands returned and slipped inside, caressing over Andy's shoulders and down as she pushed the jacket open to the sides. Any took a nervous step back, her eyes darkening as she caught a deep breath but Lynn firmly pulled her back closer. She acknowledged the token protest with a growled, "Where ya goin'?" as her arm ran up Andy's back, circling.

Lynn slid the jacket down Andy's arms all the way off, and slipped it on. She turned her head, breathing in the scent of leather and Andy. She hummed, low and throaty, "Mmmmm, nice!" Andy felt a hand on her shoulder circling, turning her slowly, as Lynn scanned her from head to toe. "Very, very nice."

Andy felt a shiver pass through her as she stood in her simple white blouse, opened down three buttons, showing the shadowed, smooth curve of her breasts. Andy lifted her chin, staring at the woman before her, her nipples growing taut at the heat of Lynn's gaze caught her. The music and voices from upstairs barely filtered through the door. Combined with the dim light, it all felt edgy and almost deliciously dangerous.

Lynn stood behind her and slipped her hands around her waist, pulling her in back to front for their first full body contact. Andy melted against her, her head dropping back as Lynn's fingers stroked through her hair, pushing it back, then ran those fingers down the long line of her neck.

Andy knew she wanted this. Her body was screaming at her with need. She found herself pressing back insistently, rubbing her ass against Lynn's front, grabbing her hands and bringing them up to her breasts. Lynn obliged, pinching already hardened nipples through the material, using the friction of the cloth to further inflame, fingers pulsing in bursts of intensity, driving her higher. Small sharp teeth surrounded the muscle of Andy's shoulder, holding firmly, not breaking skin, provoking a shuddering gasp from her prey.

Those hands slid lower to Andy's waistline, unsnapping, unzipping. The bite released as Andy fumbled, helping, dumping her jeans and panties in a single motion, pushing them down around her ankles. She stroked herself impatiently, hungrily needy, spreading wetness across her fingers. Lynn spread her legs with her thigh pushing between Andy's. She ran her hands over Andy's firm ass, petting and cupping the flesh before moving lower and slipping into her suddenly, a single finger slowly circling inner walls. The press of her thigh drove her finger deeper.

Lynn leaned forward, running her tongue around the shell of her ear, whispering, "You are so very wet, soaking my hand. I want to fuck you, want to fuck you hard and so very thoroughly… please let me. Let me know you want it."

Andy pushed her hips back inviting, moaning a soft," Yes, oh yes, fuck me…fuck me now…..Gods, please", as she started to move beyond coherent thought. Lynn, adding a second finger pressing in deeper, rolling as she set a slow, steady rhythm. Those fingers curled, caressing the inner walsl finding that textured ultra-sensitive spot. The press of Lynn's thigh just increased the sensation as she drove into her demandingly. Andy felt the rising rippling tide of an orgasm stirring and breathed deep, holding it, wanting more, wanting it to last.

Suddenly, Lynn withdrew and Andy heard a zipper descend. She tried to turn and face Lynn, wanting to reciprocate, to press her fingers into the wetness of the other woman, to stroke and tease. Instead she felt herself abruptly pushed down across one of the tables. She lost her breath and tried to suck in air, grabbing the table's edge to steady her upper body, her breasts pressed against the flat of the table. She felt her legs kicked further apart, spreading her even more. Her hips lifted, exposing and offering herself fully. Hands glided down her back as a tongue licked its way down the crack of her ass, all the way to her clit. Andy bit her lips hard trying to swallow the moan that wanted out. That tongue circled, teasing, slipping down to her entrance pressing in as deeply as it could before returning, flat and warm, pressing over her clit, then circling, the silver ball of jewelry embedded in it, dancing across the swollen, engorged flesh, teasing the hood back, making her hips jerk and her body open, hips undulating.

Suddenly, she felt Lynn stand and felt the immediate pressure of more than fingers entering her, something fuller, longer, smoother. A quick thought flashed through Andy's mind,_ Oh God. She's packing_. Andy moaned deep and low as Lynn grasped her hips, moving with her, using long deep strokes driven by her hips. Lynn moved with knowing intent, pulling the dildo out then slowly pressing in, deeper with each stroke, slowly increasing the speed. Her ass slapped against Lynn's thighs. Slippery, wet sounds matched every movement echoing in the closed space. Lynn's hand came around her hip finding her clit, driving her farther over that edge as she murmured, "Come on, take it, all of it, feel me fucking you." Powerhouse ripples of the most intense pleasure rolled through her body, centered on that fierce invasion.

And then she was coming, with a long silent scream as her back arched, heart pounding, knees buckling, held up only by Lynn's firm arm. Deep pulses from her inner walls sucked at the dildo in the aftermath and as Lynn's movement slowed. She did not know how long she stayed on her hands and knees on the basement floor before she could catch her breath and had recovered enough to stand on still shaky legs. She had no idea whether Lynn had come or if just taking her had been enough. Feeling no embarrassment, just a sense of complete sexual satisfaction, she rose to her feet and pulled up her pants, zipping and tucking in her shirt.

Lynn reached out, running a hand down Andy's arm with a satisfied smile, before shrugging back out of the jacket and hanging it over Andy's shoulders."Uh huh, just as I thought, very, very nice." Lynn grabbed a package of coasters. "Time to get upstairs." She turned and opened the door, heading up the stairs. Looking back, she tossed back over her shoulder with a smirk, "Coming?"

She was abruptly brought back to the present with Lynn saying, "And now you walk in here with a guitar? Kill me now. …..gotta get back to work. See you later Andy. Call me this time." Lynn left after dropping a crumpled slip of paper with a scrawled number, blowing a kiss. As soon as she was out of sight, Andy quickly ditched it under the table. "That's not happening", she muttered.

Nigel snickered. "What's with all the lustful looks you are getting tonight, Andy?...And don't sweat it, everyone goes through those …..shall we say, experimental phases? Just some people never move beyond that." He'd picked up on the interaction between the two women and saw Andy's avoidance tactics.

"Yeah, been there done that…got the Slut For a Night t-shirt …not going back there…..and it's the guitar, Nige. Lesbians have a thing for women guitar players. It's the hands and the fingers, sensitive, agile, strong, talented and imagining just what….."

Nigel interrupted her quickly, shaking his head. "Too much information.…enough…..I don't need to know about all the wet, squiggly parts, thank you. I love women, adore women but…not my flavor for more …. intimate encounters."

"I've got to get a picture of this chick magnet you've collected. Open the case for me, please" Nigel snapped a few pictures of the guitar with his smart phone." Might just have to borrow it for a photo shoot. Love the dragon."

Andy closed the case, "She's pretty special, isn't she? Getting late, Nige. I should grab a cab and get home. Walk me to the corner?"

They finished their drinks, grabbed their jacket and coat and wandered out and up the street, arm in arm.

Andy waved down a cab, while Nigel got ready to walk the block to his condo. He gave her a hug saying, "Good night, Six… Strings."

She laughed. "Night, Nigel. See you on Saturday." She jumped into the cab and was off into the night.

Alone in the cab, pensively looking out the window and thinking back to that encounter with Lynn, Andy knew she had reached the right conclusion. That momentary release was not all she wanted. It was hot, smoldering hot, leave you wet and wanting hot. But she wanted emotional connection or it just felt empty, purposeless. She was not a one night stand kind of gal. Or a quick fuck in a bathroom stall or dingy basement kind of gal. Just getting off didn't do much for her. She was not Lynn. There had to be more. And she somehow felt like she was cheating on someone_. How the hell do you cheat on someone you've never been with? And dumped you before you even had a chance to be with them? How twisted is that?,_ she asked herself.

Nigel whistled as he set off for home. The fairy godfather had just a few more things to get into place for Saturday. _Time to give a call to a very special designer I know. Miranda won't be able to keep her eyes off you by the time I'm done._

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Weez, merci pour ton aide. Je l'apprécie beaucoup!

**Unexpected Grace – Chapter 7**

The dream had changed.

She watches from the door of the verandah so high on the cliff overlooking the ocean. Her eyes scan the long, exposed back of the silver-haired woman standing at its edge. The woman's hands rest lightly on the stone boundary. Her eyes scan the horizon seeing the calm water of low tide with the smallest of lapping waves, and sea birds diving, calling as they do, swooping over the water.

The dawn sky is cloudless, translucent daylight blues bleed into the black of night in the western sky. The moon, just a sliver past full, fades in luminosity as the rising sun starts to peek above the horizon, chasing the night. Brilliantly, the sun clears the sea's edge and a blazing golden pathway stretches to the woman. She lifts her arms, extending them forward to the sun; gently cupped and palms up, as if to fill them with that luminous brightness. Her eyes close and she stands, a living prayer. The light catches the silver of her hair and with the white of her tunic, she simply shines. The barest stirring of a breeze strokes her body, shifting the tunic, exposing sensuous curves.

She smiles at the light footsteps she hears from behind as the watcher approaches. Arms slip around her with a long caress of strong and gentle hands over hips and belly. Those hands link and her body shifts back as the other's comes forward. The sudden warmth of skin and breasts against her back sparks a deep shiver, sending it echoing into her core. Her hands drop to cover those of the other woman's as her head drops back, leaning into the safety and shelter of her beloved, her eyes still watching the sun. She feels warm breath against her neck as soft lips find a home, nuzzling, just behind her ear.

"Greeting the new day?" One hand escapes its partner to reach up and trace the length of her neck, moving inward across a clavicle and down, just skirting the rounded curve of a breast through an opening in the tunic's V, and continuing downward to interlock with its twin again and intertwine with those of the woman before her. They stand as one, gently swaying, watching the dawning of the day. Faint music from inside the structure drifts to them on the breeze.

"With you, every day is new and every dawn is a blessing." Turning her head to kiss the cheek of the dark haired one holding her, she smoothly turns into waiting arms, getting lost in the depths of the warm brown eyes holding hers captive. She presses forward into a full body kiss that leaves no misunderstanding concerning the depth of love, of desire, of need…..

A loud blast from a truck on the street woke Andy out of a deep sleep. She groaned feeling her body tensed to the max. The abrupt ending to the dream left her aching for the heart-filled connection that was so very different from the acute loss she had woken to in the weeks before. Waking so aroused, her body felt like it was on fire. She took in deep breaths, forcing muscles to relax, slowly stilling a racing heart. A ghost of smile traveled over her lips and her body arched, stretching sinuously. Questing toes, one sporting the golden glimmer of a ring, found the puddle of late morning sunlight at the base of the bed. Her thoughts drifted as the dream's immediate intensity faded. _I guess this is more hopeful than the last months of my subconscious torturing me. I'm a long way from the huddling exiled mass cowering from stormy seas in the bottom of some floating death trap where this all started._

_No more. I want the reality of that amazing woman in my arms, in my bed…..now. I want her to sing my name, with that accent she gives it, Andréa, begging me to touch, to make her come. Together we might just implode that black hole Nigel mentioned. Gods, even more, I want to stand in the center of her heart._

Bleary eyed, she sat up on the edge of the bed, thinking back through the past day and night. Last night had been a later one than she had planned. She had stumbled up the stairs and made it in the door, dumped her boots, bag and coat, and tumbled into bed, her exhaustion driving her into a deep sleep. Clothes lay in a pile where she had left them. She blinked, slowly. Her thoughts beginning to race with all the things she needed to do. She had a day, just a day. There was Nigel's party to figure out, the set and all the details. Most importantly, she needed to figure out how she was going to approach Miranda and what she wanted to say and how.

"Oh, fuck! The guitar!" She bolted out of bed, streaking into the main room almost tripping over boots left in her path from where she had dropped them last night. She sighed in relief when she saw the case resting close to the front door. She padded over to the case, picking it up and carrying it to the sofa_. This was real. It wasn't a dream. _She sat down heavily on the couch and just stared at the case almost afraid to open it._ I can barely believe this happened._

She shivered, realizing she was sitting on her couch stark naked. She made her way back to the bedroom, throwing on yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Heading to the kitchen, she started coffee. She eyed the guitar case warily, half expecting it to disappear. Grabbing a mug of coffee, a carton of yogurt and a banana she sat at her desk. Opening her email, she found Nigel had sent directions to his party at La Nuit Sombre with a reminder to pass the information on to Doug and Michael. They'd get there and set up for a quick sound check at 6:30 P.M. The party started at 8:00 and Nigel wanted them to start playing around 9:00. Clothes would be waiting for them to change into before their set.

She looked up the restaurant on the web out of curiosity. The owner-chefs were a married couple that had emigrated from France five years ago. La Nuit Sombre was their dream made real. The restaurant was relatively new but had rave reviews. The cuisine was French and the menu looked exceptional and was coupled to an extensive wine list. Photos showed a dark elegant interior with a small performance space, a beautiful bar and scattered small tables. Miranda adored places like this. They had lunched at a wonderful bistro like this in Paris that Nigel had found. It was like stepping back in time_. How fitting in the weirdest kinda way. And it's here that I'm going to make my way back to her._

Finishing her breakfast, Andy fired an email off to Doug and Michael with all the details. She asked them to come by her place at 4:00 the next afternoon for a quick run through. They could grab a cab and get all their instruments and equipment over together with enough time to set up.

Stretching, she felt the ache of well walked muscles from the day before. Running her fingers through her hair, the fine coating of city dust made her wince_. I'm not doing anything until I've had a bath._ The old claw foot tub was huge, deep and extra-long, which meant she could immerse fully, her long legs completely extended. As the tub filled, she added a subtly spicy bubble bath. The room warmed quickly as the fragrant steam escaped into the air.

Stripping, she immersed herself slowly in the tub, sighing softly with pleasure. She leaned back, letting her head rest against the rounded edge as she sank up to her chin. Muscles began to gradually loosen and relax as she let her breathing slow. The percussive, rhythmic drip of the bath faucet was the only sound besides her shallow breathing. She sank slowly, holding her breath, wetting her hair before sitting up and shampooing, rinsing with fresh water from the hose attachment. She grabbed a washcloth, soaped it and washed. The fine silken fluid of earlier arousal rinsed quickly into the bath water. Her thoughts drifted to Miranda…holding her, having her in this tub ….most thoroughly and completely having her. A fingertip stroked between still sensitive folds, dancing over her clit. Her hips arched, rising to her own touch. She hummed to herself as her thoughts warmed distractedly.

And there it was_. What was that tune she was humming?_ It kept slipping away before she could remember it. Suddenly, it hit her. This was the music of the dream that had eluded her twice. But this was it. She quickly rose from the bath, sloshing water in her haste. She half dried herself off, throwing the towel on the puddle and dressed, moving into the living room.

Sitting on the couch, she opened the guitar case. "We've got some magic to create, beautiful one." She tuned quickly. Beginning slowly, Andy carefully picked out the notes she had heard. She painstakingly teased out the melodic line, humming softly as she did, repeating it over and over until she had it down.

Her sole focus became the music. All else was forgotten. She felt driven as she images of the dream were intensely present in her mind's eye. Now that she had the melody, she could add the chords that supported it. She stopped for a moment, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She listened, deeply listened, beginning to hear beyond the immediate. The vision of Miranda from the morning's dream came to her, her face relaxed and open, love pouring from her eyes.

Opening her eyes, she lifted the guitar back into her lap, tuning it down to that rich open tuning she had first used yesterday just before practicing with the guys. She murmured to the guitar almost sub-vocally, "Ah yes, that's it, right there". She heard the richness of the chords start to come to the surface as she slowly found her way, backing the melody, laying down the instrumental base. The almost stately yet delicate elegance of the music enticed and invited.

She worked for hours, time disappearing as she played. The shadows in the apartment had shifted when she finally stopped playing and she could tell it was late afternoon. "Well, ouch!" She complained as she shook out her hands, noticing the slight tenderness of the fingertips of her left hand. The callous had thinned a little during the time she couldn't play. Rising, she stretched, rolling her neck to work out the kinks. Here breakfast had long ago been burnt through and hunger called her name. Sticking her head in the fridge, she saw a questionable tomato and a browning head of lettuce. Time to head out for food.

Grabbing her wallet and phone, she shrugged on her jacket and slipped down the stairs. She was halfway down the block when Nigel called. "Hey, Nigel."

"Hi Andy. Got my email?"

"Yup, I'm confirming with the guys. I'll let you know if there are any problems".

"Great! And how's the plan going?"

"Well, I haven't got all the details. But I have the beginning of something, something good. "

"I trust you to let me know what I can do. Emily will be there and I'm positive she'll help if needed. And Andy, don't forget to trust your gut and your heart. They'll take you where you need to go. Love is magic and mystery and you just have to trust it sometimes…. even when you are trying to give it a little push."

"I hear you, Nigel. I'm finding my way. Talk to you later, bye."

Andy continued on, grabbed a sandwich and a muffin for the morning at the local deli and headed home. She quickly ate and sat back down, guitar, journal and a pen in hand. She had lit a few candles in the room, needing the softness of candlelight. She started playing, singing the melody without words as she did.

She looked down at the guitar, her fingertips stroking the embedded dragon. "So, tell me…..how does one seduce a dragon to come out of her cave? Any hints? " She sighed and settled back into her work.

Slowly, the lyrics started to come. Nigel's words came back to her…..magic and mystery. She sang softly as the words began to come… "Love seems to find me…..love seems to find me in mysterious ways….."

She worked long into the night, sometimes playing, sometimes pacing as she teased the words into a song, keeping some, and rejecting others, finding the right ones. Combined with the music behind the word, this would be a piece that did not beg but that was an invitation to a beginning, one that put her heart on the line.

Finally, she played it through for a final time. She jotted down the last bit of text in her journal and sat back, emptied and exhausted. Forcing herself to stand, she put the guitar in the corner guitar stand with a whispered, "Welcome home." With a gentle stroke of the strings, she stumbled off to bed.

As her head hit the pillow, her last fading thought was_, I know what I have to do …..and what it will cost me if I fail. Failure….not an option..._

* * *

It had been a long, tiring day.

Miranda had arrived home at her townhouse late in the evening. She sat alone in her study, a third glass of one of her favorite red wines in her hand, an indulgence beyond her usual single glass. Her shoes were off and her legs were tucked beneath her as she sat. She had grabbed the throw off the coach and now wrapped it around herself, sinking deeper into the large leather chair. The house was quiet and the room softly lit. She so rarely got the chance to simply stop and catch her breath. She brought the glass up to her cheek, cooling the skin for a few seconds.

She ran her fingers through that stubborn lock over her forehead, brushing it back from her eyes. Maybe she'd let her hair grow out, let the girls put that temporary blue streak that they had put in her forelock last Halloween back in. It has washed out the next morning_. Could you see their faces if I walked into Runway with that? The next day everyone in fashion would have one. _Perhaps it was the wine, but the whimsy of her thoughts made her laugh out loud at the absurdity as she imagined a Runway spread with all kinds of celebrities sporting little streaks of color. _Oh my, last glass tonight, I think._

Things had gone well today. Her upper management had informed all employees of the coming changes early in the morning with support from HR. The air of relief in Runway's offices was palatable. A noon press release had gone out announcing the coming changes, followed by a press conference featuring Nigel and Emily with Miranda there to introduce them in their new roles. She had stepped back and let them handle the questions that had followed. It was a relief to see the ease and professionalism they had exhibited.

The months ahead would challenge everyone maximally. She knew she would be needed as a strong presence in the changeover. But a personal turning point had been reached. She could see a flicker of light at the end of tunnel, like the tiniest glimmer of a dawn breaking over a distant horizon. She only wished that there was someone there at the end of that tunnel. She slammed the door on the immediate vision of warm, brown eyes that started to fill her mind. She had destroyed that possibility for all the right reasons.

_Silly woman, there's nothing there for you_."Let her go…..let go…let go…let go..." She chanted the last words aloud in a whisper. She chugged back a large gulp of wine, swallowing around the lump in her throat, as she shook her head, _Not a nice thing to do to such a rich vintage._

She looked around the room taking it in. Rising, she drank the last sip of wine, savoring it this time, before abandoning the glass on the table. She wandered in stocking feet to the girls' rooms, smiling as she peeked in, seeing all the trappings of almost teenagers. One room was an explosion of artistic intention while the other was more reserved and neat, reflecting the differences between the two.

Before they were born, she had been so terribly afraid. Handling millions of dollars of budgets and a top of the line fashion magazine? No problem. But bringing up two little humans? How could she be anyone's mother? But the moment they were laid in her arms, the unexpected ferocity of her love was born in an instant, overcoming any fear. Nothing would ever harm them if she had power in the world to prevent it, including her own actions. Or the things she chose not to act upon, as she thought sadly of Andréa.

The girls were spending the weekend with their father. Soon there would be boys and all that drama. Or maybe girls? These years were all moving so fast. With a sharp intake of breath, it hit her. They would be gone soon enough. They would fly off into their own lives with her love and the best preparation she was capable of giving them, as the wind beneath those newly unfurled wings.

And then, she would be here by herself, knocking around inside this huge home. A sudden overwhelming sense of aloneness and loss swept over her. As accustomed to her own company as she was, a frisson of fear passed through her. She raised her hands to her face and leaned back against the wall for a brief moment of support_. Ah, the choices we make….the choices I made. I want them all to be happy and if this is what it costs, then I will pay, whatever it takes. _She knew she was thinking of more than just the girls but of Andréa as well. _At least, I will be able to be here more for my girls in the next years. But who'll be there for me?_

For a moment, a spark of anger caught her. Her hands fisted as she turned and made her way to her bedroom. She pulled the bedspread back, angrily throwing pillows into a corner._ Damn, I wish …., _Her shoulders slumped as she sat abruptly on the end of the bed, fingers fisted in the bedspread_. I wish for what I have no right to want. I know, I pushed her away for all the right reasons but...I wish..._

She sat, immobile for minutes, regaining her control and composure. Tomorrow night, she'd attend Nigel's party. She'd be social, genuinely social. She'd use the days ahead to catch her breath for this coming phase of her life. This would be a starting point, this party. It was time for the new, improved Miranda Priestly to step out from behind the Runway curtain. The one that actually had a life or at least hoped to, soon. It had been a long time coming.

Like the Wizard of Oz in Wicked, the façade was crumpling and the dragon was a collection of mechanical parts without a heart, falling to the floor, rusted out. Perhaps she was the Tin Woman after all, searching for that lost, slowly beating muscle. She lifted her chin, moisture on her eyelashes glistening. She forced her hands to relax, to smooth the bedspread with small gestures of comfort, as she straightened her spine.

_I can do this…..I can do this._

* * *

_Please review. Thanks to everyone that has reviewed and for the favs, follows and alerts._


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Again, my loving thanks to Weez for her editing and suggestions. Yes, I understand that you are really an alpha. Any mistakes are mine in the end.

Please note the lyrics and music of the final song are my own original work and are copyrighted.

* * *

**Unexpected Grace – Chapter Eight**

Today was the day.

Andy had awoken in the late morning, surprisingly refreshed. No dreams had haunted her sleep. She had the sense of time slowing down as if she was poised high above a cliff ready to take a dive into the unknown in slow motion.

She dressed quickly and went out for a run on this sunny Saturday morning. For the city that never sleeps, Saturday was still a day off for most and people wandered the streets and the paths of her favorite park at a more relaxed pace than the usual weekday hustle. The sunlight felt good on her skin as she ran in and out of shadows of the trees.

She used the run to work out the last details in her head concerning the evening and her plans for Miranda. She felt confident, not of the outcome of the plan, but of the steps she was putting in place. It would involve some help from her friends. She'd have to loop them in before Miranda's arrival this evening.

Sprinting the last block home, she ran up the stairs. Inside her apartment, she dumped clothes as she stripped. Once in the shower, she let the hot, hot water pour down her body sluicing off sweat and NY city streets along with some of her anxiety. Soon, the bathroom was steamy from her post-run shower. She wiped the mirror with the edge of a damp towel, creating a streaky window to peer into and looked herself in the eye. Her face looked rested and the dark shadows of fatigue had dissipated. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise and heat of the shower.

She saw an edge of panic in those brown depths_. Shit, it's Miranda fucking Priestly! Are you freaking crazy! _ She took a couple of long, deep breaths, forcing herself to ease her grip on the edge of the sink. _I can do this…I can do this….I can. _She took in a last huge breath and blew it out, forcing her shoulders to relax.

In the kitchen, she ate her muffin, barely tasting it. It had berries in it, red ones, but that was as far as she noticed. It could have been sawdust for all she cared. It was fuel. She headed to the couch sipping from a cup filled with a blend of peppermint and chamomile tea, hoping it would help her stay calm.

Everything she needed was packed: music, stands, backup microphone and cable, extra cable for the guitar, makeup, and a thermos of her favorite tea with extra honey and lemon. She had forgotten to pick up a strap for the guitar but she could always sit on a stool, balance it over her thigh and play. She hoped she had not forgotten anything else. Clothes and shoes were Nigel's department and she was pretty sure he knew not to put her in some droopy sleeved top that would get in the way of the guitar strings.

She stood and paced, wringing her hands. It was not the singing that was giving her that jittery, edgy, finger-stuck-in-an-electric-outlet feeling. Normally, stage fright passed as soon as she started singing. It had always been that way. It was all the rest of it that had her worked up. She had not seen Miranda in months. Anticipation and an edge of fear that kept slipping back in had a hold on her, as she saw those changeable blue eyes in her mind's eye_. Please see me, all of me and all I have to give. _

A rolling wave of nausea forced her to sit down abruptly with a small groan, hand over her stomach. The butterflies in her stomach were starting to feel more like a tribe of Tribbles bouncing off the walls. To calm herself, she wiped her hands on her jeans, grabbed the guitar and started to play, taking herself through the song she had written.

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. Opening it, she smiled at Doug and Michael standing there, their hands full with instruments and gear.

"Hi you two, right on time. Come on in." She gave them both a welcome kiss on the cheek as they passed her.

Doug dumped his bass on the floor and flopped on the couch, panting. "Andy….next apartment…..lower floor."

Michael laughed as he sat down next to him. "The answer to that is…..exercise, something you avoid like the plague, my friend. And hello, Andy. Are you ready for this?"

"Ready? Ready as I'm ever going to be for an impromptu gig with less than 48 hours of notice. And guys, I need to talk to you about…mmm, something. Um, how about a beer? Tea maybe, I have tea." Nervous eyes looked at both of them in turn as she partially stood, ready to wriggle out of the conversation.

Doug sat up, knowing from her tone that this was something important. "What's up, Andy? We're listening. Sit, sit."

Andy sat back down, perching on the edge of her chair. "Well, ok…you know that job I had at Runway with the evil boss from hell? The boss I left in Paris during Fashion week?" Her eyes shifted evasively, not quite meeting Doug's.

Doug took her hand and held it, nodding, "Yeah?"

"Remember how proud I was that I walked away, rejected that crazy life, insane job, and infuriating dragon of a boss?"

"Yes, but I remember it a little differently. Proud, indignant ….perhaps…. but you seemed deeply shaken and sad for weeks after that, months really." He gently squeezed her hand.

Andy looked at him in surprise. Doug was always the quiet, observant one of her friends. "Yeah, well…..I never realized until a few days ago that she pushed me out of her life, her world. She set me up to leave her."

Michael frowned. "Why would she do that, Andy? "

Fighting the tears that threatened to fill her eyes, she pulled her hand away from Doug's and stood, unable to sit still, speaking rapidly. "Because she thought she had to, because she cared enough to let me go, because she's afraid… She tried to do what she thought was the best for me…because she loves me. She thought she was doing the "right thing". Her fingers made little quotation marks in the air.

Doug smiled softly. "I'm not surprised, not one bit. The intensity you had with her doesn't come out of a vacuum. You spoke of her with such fire and passion in your voice." He paused and then stood and faced her, his eyes kind and open. "And you love her too, don't you, Andy?"

Doug's arms came up and she moved into his welcoming hug. "Gods, yes! I love her. I'm in love with her, crazy as it may sound, damn it. I want her in my life." She burrowed her head into his shoulder for a few seconds leaving a damp spot on his shirt. Before stepping back, her hand came up to wipe the remaining dampness from her eyes. "Damn, I'm a frazzled mess."

"She's going to be there tonight, isn't she? She goes to Nigel's parties. I think she was there the first time I met him. Damn, woman! You do have fine taste." His eyes twinkled at the memory of the elegance that was Miranda. He had been surprised by her grace and seemingly genuine welcome when they were introduced.

Andy could see the pieces starting to fall in place in Doug's mind. He chuckled. "Well, shit… and that's why Nigel asked us to play, to get you two in the same room together."

Michael laughed. "And because we all sound so darn good together, don't forget**. ** I don't know all the characters here but I do love a good romance. Sounds like fun. Do we kidnap her or what?"

Andy looked appalled, "No, absolutely not…..well, maybe her heart actually but that part is up to me. But I do need your help."

"So, what's the plan, my friend?"

With that, Andy launched in to her ideas for the night, taking them through what she wanted to create and orchestrate that evening, step by step. Afterwards, they spent the next hour going through the changed set list that Andy had created. It was going to be a short set of a handful of songs all chosen for a purpose. Lastly, Andy grabbed her guitar and took them through the song she had finished the day before so they could add at least minimal backup.

As they finished, Doug took her hand, running his thumb over her slightly tender calloused fingertips. "It's good to hear you play again. I've missed it. You and that guitar are something special, Andy." He held her eyes for a moment before continuing "Seriously…your song is … well, I don't have words. If this doesn't touch her heart, nothing will. If that happens, promise me you will let go and walk away, no matter what it costs you."

Andy paused, pain flitting briefly through her eyes, "I'm going to hope that it doesn't come to that, Doug. Thank you for being here. I don't know if I could do this without all of you around me."

Michael spoke up from the window, "Taxi's here, let's get out of here. Now, if you change your mind about the kidnapping….."

* * *

The evening was settling on New York City as they arrived a little early and got their gear out of the cab. As Doug paid the driver, he looked up at the sign with the name of the restaurant displayed, La Nuit Sombre. "Hey Andy, doesn't that mean The Darkest Knight, like Batman, ya know?"

Andy could not help but roll her eyes. "Doug, you are such a doofus sometimes! Not Batman! Don't you remember your early lit courses or even those French courses we took? La Nuit Sombre, the Dark Night. Remember the Dark Night of the Soul, mystic reference to metamorphosis?"

"Jeez, Andy, you're such a lit major, sometimes. I'm teasing you."

"Little tense here, sorry Doug. But I'm hoping for that transformation…for someone."

The front of the restaurant had a lovely terrace lined by small bushes marking off the area filled with tables and chairs. The front windows were huge framed doors that swung open to the interior during good weather. A small sign "_CLOSED: Private Party" _adorned the front door.

They pushed through the main door and put down their gear, looking around. The restaurant was richly elegant. Buffet tables had been set up close to the bar. Small tables covered with black table cloths and comfortable chairs were clustered around the small performance area. Each table had a small candle contained in a translucent glass votive, waiting to be lit. Waiters in black pants and shirts were setting up the dishes, glasses and cutlery for the party on the buffet table. Delicious smells were wafting from the kitchen.

The ceiling was high and made of refinished patterned tin that shimmered a mat silver. Subtle pendant lighting and wall scones cast pools of light, creating a sense of intimacy and space at the same time. The walls were burgundy and black, accenting the rich natural wood of the bar. Close to the bar, swinging doors opened to the kitchen area. The floor was carpeted with a deep burgundy carpet. Tables had been grouped, leaving open space for people to circulate and talk. A few more private booths were nestled in the back. The stage was a simple raised platform with one step up. Small spotlights flooded the area and accented the rich indigo velvet curtain at the rear. The sound system was all set up, microphones ready for them. They just had to set up their amps. A single high stool waited for Andy.

Andy turned as she heard Nigel's voice greeting them, "Hello, my friends. What do you think? Isn't this place incredible or not?" The excitement in his voice was clear.

"It's gorgeous, Nigel. How did you find it?"

"A friend brought me here and I fell in love. You know how I adore these kinds of places. He introduced me to the owners. You know my parties; I love to connect people and places. Jacques and Marie were happy to do this with me tonight. Speaking of which…"

Nigel turned to a man in a black chef's jacket with the name of the restaurant embroidered on the upper pocket. "Andy, let me introduce you to Jacques one of the owners… Jacques, my good friend Andy."

His Parisian accent brought a melodic lilt to his words, "Bienvenue Andréa, oui? Welcome to La Nuit Sombre. Nigel has told me you're playing tonight and I'm looking forward to hearing you." Warm dark eyes smiled in welcome. "It's not often we find a musician of such beauty gracing our little stage."

A throaty feminine laugh interrupted as an arm slipped around the man's waist, "Jacques, at least let her set her guitar down before you start flirting". A trim dark haired woman with deep, gorgeous thick-lashed eyes turned to Andy and took her hand, "French men… charm is in the DNA, they can't help themselves. Welcome, I'm Marie"

Andy found herself thinking, _It's not just the men with that charm gene_. "Bonjour, Jacques et Marie. And that's about the extent of my poorly remembered university French. We're happy to be here. What an amazing place! And these are Doug and Michael, my band mates. We're going to set up and do a quick sound check. We don't want to interrupt your preparations."

"No problem, just behind the curtain there's a door that leads to a backstage room with a private bathroom. You can change and get set up before you play. Let us know if there's anything you need. We left water and glasses for you" Marie smiled. She and her husband headed back to the kitchen and bar.

Nigel followed Andy toward the stage. "Jacques and Marie are serving a delicious selection of charcuterie; you know those wonderful sliced meats we had in Paris? And all kinds of cheeses, various pâtés, small bite size quiche Lorraine bits, steamed mussels in a wine and garlic sauce, antipasto platters, crackers and sliced baguette, and who knows what else. I wanted food that people could sample and easily carry on a small plate. Then there are the wines, mostly French of course. This is going to be so wonderful! Make sure you come out and get something to eat."

"And Andy, the clothes are in the back waiting for you."

"Thanks, sounds amazing. And thanks so much for asking us to play. Why don't you come back stage after we warm up and I catch you up on what I need from you tonight? You've done so much already."

"See you in a little while, Andy."

They set up quickly, stepped up on the stage and ran through a song or two, adjusting the tone and balance of the voices and instruments. Andy stood at one side, with Michael next to her and Doug on the far side. They formed a semi-circle so they could interact easily during the set. Andy made sure that the table Nigel had reserved was in her direct line of sight, adjusting her microphone stand. She could imagine Miranda sitting there with the spill of the light from stage catching the edge of the table. The four chairs she had planned for were gathered around the table. The tables were close, enough so not to allow easy escape once someone was seated.

The acoustics were excellent and the sound filled the space warmly. Andy's voice resonated cleanly in the room, barely needing a microphone. Small adjustments would be needed later but they could do that on the fly. Andy plugged in her guitar just to check the volume, and then put it aside in the back room. Applause echoed from the staff setting up around them as they finished.

By now, it was 7:30 and Andy did not want to be seen by Miranda when she arrived. She slipped into the room behind the stage to wait.

Around 8:00 people started to arrive and mingle. Marie was the hostess for the evening, graciously welcoming and taking coats, directing people toward the food, the wine and the bar. Slowly the place began to fill up. Easy conversation and laughter could be heard. It was an easy relaxed environment.

Nigel always attracted the most eclectic, interesting friends. He knew people scattered from all the arts, dancers, artists, photographers, musicians, poets, writers, actors, film makers. You never knew who you would meet and end up talking with for hours. People from the fashion industry were scattered through the mix. He knew bankers and lawyers and chefs and people from just about every profession there was. The food was always wonderful and interesting, the wine and booze always the best, the conversation was scintillating and the places he found were unique and worth coming back to. Perhaps it was the blend of all these things but his parties were well loved and looked forward to by those he invited. This one would be no exception.

Backstage, Andy was eyeing the bag with the clothes Nigel had left for her. Doug had already opened his and was oohh'ing and aahh'ing happily. Nigel had dressed him in Armani with loose cut black slacks and a black turtle neck with two small silver zippers on either side of the neck. Michael would be wearing Dior Homme. Nigel chose slim fitting styled black pants that fit his runner's body trimly and a black shirt with subtle geometric patterns woven into the fabric and sleeves that easily rolled up so his hands were unencumbered. They tried on their plumage and were out the door to get some food.

Andy was a little concerned. She had been expecting some long elegant, designer deal, probably some sheath of a sexy, black dress from one of the big names in fashion. But there was no way that was what was in the bag. It was too heavy. Slowly unzipping the bag, she saw leather, buttery-soft black leather with just a hint of blue in the color. She lifted the clothing from the bag in total surprise. This was performance ware. It was a three piece outfit of thin, form fitting, low riding leather pants, a waist length cross zipping jacket and a sleeveless body clinging vest. Andy ran a hand over the leather. It was so sensually soft and ultra feminine. Finally, a pocket discharged wispy black panties and a lacy, see-through bra. A small box disclosed stud earrings in a sapphire blue, completing the outfit.

_ Oh Nigel, what have you done? _ In the bottom of the bag there was a pair of ankle high slouch boots with a low heel. She sighed in relief. Standing and singing in heels made it hard to breathe and support tone. One final item was hanging with the others. It was a 3 inch wide strap of matching leather, a guitar strap. On the strap was a replicate of the dragon on her guitar in a silvery under layer shining through a cut out in the leather. She smiled. _Everyone gets new clothes tonight. _

_Ok, then. This should be interesting. I'll have to just trust the master._

She shook her head and quickly changed, not daring to look in the mirror. When she finally did, she gasped. This was not biker girl gear. This was elegant and streamlined, darkly sexual. The leather fit like a second skin on her tall form, emphasizing sleek womanly curves and gently cut muscle.

_Gods, I look like every lesbian's wet dream. I guess that's the point._ There were no studs or visible fasteners, just sleek, mat, blue-black leather covering the length of her body, a body that begged to be petted. She ran her hands down her body, feeling the softness and quiet warmth of the leather, imagining someone else's hands doing exactly that.

A quiet knock on the door was accompanied by a woman's voice. "Andy?"

"Come on in, Emily."

Emily entered with Serena, her lover, in tow. "Bloody hell! You look …amazing, I hate to say it but…wow! And music? I had no idea that you sang. Oh,... and Nigel caught us up on what's up tonight. It's about time! Finally worked up the guts to go after her, I see. Took you long enough."

Andy put down the cup of teas she was drinking, reached out and drew Emily into a hug, smiling as Emily tugged herself out of the embrace. "Enough….we've work to do."

"About time? Hmmmm, yes. I'm so glad you're here. And congratulations, Nigel clued me in and I heard the announcement yesterday. You're going to be great at this. I am so happy for you. "

"Yes well, I am, of course, thrilled as you can imagine. But enough of that. We're here as your personal beauty assistants, Andy. Take a seat." Andy knew her well enough to know her crisp tone covered her excitement and pleasure in the new position.

"Remember those Chanel boots? Multiply that one thousand times and that's what you look like. Very impressive. And you know how she reacted to those. She's going to be stunned." Serena stated as she quickly added a few curls to Andy's long hair, giving it more volume and movement. "I have orders from Sir Nigel to make your eyes really pop."

By the time Andy turned to look in the mirror, Serena had worked her magic. She had subtly augmented Andy's natural beauty without creating any sense of artificial stage makeup. Her eyes were huge, shadowed into the tiniest edge of dark blue. Full lips were luscious with color. The blended foundation accented her cheekbones. She looked and felt delicious.

Right then, Nigel knocked and entered. He stood in front of her and took both her hands in his, looking her up And down. "Andy, you look incredible, just as I imagined. You're going to knock her dead. It's unpredictable and surprising and oh, so very sexy. My designer friend who created this outfit will be thrilled. You'll get to meet him later. He's been designing for a very, um, particular set of clients and has decided to go mainstream. I'd say this works. "

She tossed her head back and hit a pose, one hand confidently on her hip as she turned to look at herself in the full length mirror. "Nigel, you better be right. I feel like sex on a stick right now. It's a little….scary."

She looked around the room."And thank you all for this …... Now let me tell you what's about to happen and what I need from all of you."

After she finished, Nigel, Serena and Emily left to mingle and watch for Miranda's expected entrance, ready to move into place according to plan. Roy had phoned as he pulled away from the townhouse to give them a head's up.

Doug and Michael returned with a plate of food for Andy, which almost got dropped when Doug saw her. He just gaped for a moment. "Holy smokes, Andy!" Michael just grinned.

She laughed, feeling more confident by the minute. "What is it about leather that turns men into drooling fools? And Doug, you're gay, what's with that?" She shook her head frowning slightly. "Yeah, well…let's just practice a bit, ok? I can't eat and I need to make sure I can breathe and move in this." She shook out her hands, nervously, muttering under her breath,"…besides musically seducing the woman that I love, only that."

They ran through a few songs, checking their tunings. Doug went out on stage to place some glasses of water and do a final check of their setup. Andy took out her guitar and attached and adjusted the new strap, did a final check and placed the guitar in a stand right by the door where it was easy to reach. She ran a fingertip over the Dragon, and whispered, "A little magic, please?"

They were ready to go. Now they waited.

* * *

Miranda had taken a rare day all to herself. She had gone to her favorite spa and had a swim, used the whirlpool and had a massage. She left late in the afternoon, feeling relaxed and fluid. Roy dropped her off at the townhouse. She'd read for an hour and made herself a light dinner. Any worries and regrets were locked away into a deeply buried vault. She was as ready for this evening as she ever would be.

She chose her clothing carefully, dressing comfortably in tailored black slacks, and a silvery gray, off shoulder, loose fitting cashmere sweater, adding a black and silver belt low on her hips. Prada heels completed her outfit. Her makeup was light, not the heavy industrial application she kept in store for benefits and public occasions. This was to be a relaxing social evening.

As she finished, she looked at herself critically in the mirror. The fatigue had faded in the last few days. She did not think that most would notice that lingering edge of fragile sorrow in her eyes. She saw it and expected to see it for all her days. She sighed and with a final spritz of her favorite perfume, flicked off the lights and headed downstairs.

She'd been tempted to just not show up but she owed this to Nigel and once she was there, she knew she would enjoy herself. And Nigel had sworn to her that Andréa would not be there tonight. At least, she would not have to deal with that painful possibility. She would not have to be The Miranda Priestly there, thankfully. She could practice being Miranda v. 2.0, the softer, wiser woman.

She grabbed her coat and purse and walked out, feeling confident, as she heard the click of the door behind her. Roy surreptitiously sent a message on its way as the Mercedes pulled away from the curb carrying her to her destination.

* * *

Nigel had been greeting guests as they arrived and was on watch for Miranda's car after receiving Roy's message. When he saw the silver Mercedes pull up, he signaled Emily and Serena who moved closer to him to work as sentries if needed. He opened the door for Miranda, sweeping her in.

"Miranda, I am so glad you could make it. Let me have your coat. You look lovely tonight. I like that relaxed, easy look." He gently led her over to meet Marie and Jacques. "Jacques, Marie let me introduce you to Miranda Priestly, Editor-in-Chief of Runway."

"Enchanté, Madame Priestly. We are so pleased that you are here tonight and hope that you enjoy our little establishment. Bienvenue and if there is anything you would like that you do not see, just ask one of us. We'll be glad to take care of you."

"Merci beaucoup. Call me Miranda, please. What a lovely restaurant! I'm sure everything will be superb."

Nigel directed her toward the food and helped her prepare a plate of tidbits to sample. Jacques appeared with a bottle of Nuits-Saint-Georges Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2006**.**

"I think you might appreciate this... from our private collection." He'd previously uncorked the bottle to let it breathe and now poured her a sample to try.

She sipped, savoring the wine as it rolled over her palate, noting the smoothness and the gently fruity overtones and hint of vanilla. "This is lovely, thank you Jacques. A wonderful selection." She held out her glass to be filled.

"Thank you, I'll leave the rest of the bottle on your table. 2006 was a wonderful year for the grapes." He left with a small half bow.

She was exceptionally pleased by the care and the generous welcome she had received and found herself relaxing. She'd nibbled at the food on her plate and found everything to be delicious and expertly prepared.

Nigel smiled to himself as another piece of the plan fell into place to increase Miranda's level of comfort. He'd asked Jacques for a recommendation and to personally deliver the wine to their reserved table.

Nigel directed Miranda through the crowd with Serena and Emily keeping their distance discretely. Their job was to jump in if anything delayed Nigel's herding Miranda toward the table in front of the stage.

Nigel moved Miranda graciously through the gathering, staying close. Miranda smiled easily, acknowledging those she knew and was warmly inquiring with those she was just meeting, always asking questions about their line of work. She was a well-known patron of the arts and respected for her involvement and support. She conversed knowledgably about various projects many of the artists were involved in.

Soon, Nigel covertly gave a signal to Emily. Checking to make sure Miranda's back was turned, she made her way to the stage door and knocked three times, a ten minute warning. She left quickly to not draw attention to her actions.

"Miranda, we have something special tonight. I have a band that's going to do a couple of songs. I had a chance to hear them the other day and asked them to play tonight. Why don't we take a seat? We'll start in a few minutes."

He led her to the table he'd reserved. They "accidentally" ran into Emily and Serena and Nigel invited to sit with them. Nigel made sure he was on the outside with Miranda next to him. Emily and Serena took the other two seats, effectively boxing Miranda in so she could not easily leave with the tables so close. Nigel refilled Miranda's glass as she sat.

Miranda was slightly surprised. Nigel usually did not have live performances at his parties. But this must be something very special if he had just recently heard them and invited them so quickly.

On each table, there was a plate with petit fours of different flavors. Each little cake had a small plasticized slip of paper sticking out from the center. Marie had called laughingly called them French fortune cookies and had created them just for this party. Nigel picked up the plate, and offered one to Miranda. Normally, she avoided sweets but these were so delightful she was tempted enough to take one.

Nigel innocently asked her,"What's your fortune, Miranda?"

She read the slip of paper in perfect French."L'amour est à portée de la main. Or…, "Flipping it over she read with a snort, Love is within reach." _I could only wish._

Nigel smiled to himself. _Ah, and another small piece falls into place._ All the petit fours at this table had exactly the same fortune. Emily and Serena had each been instructed to quickly make something up if somehow they had to read one.

Miranda glanced over at Serena and Emily. Serena had casually dropped her arm over Emily's shoulder and was idly stroking the exposed skin there. Emily reached up for that hand, turned her head and kissed it, placing it back on her shoulder. Miranda felt a small tang of envy at that affectionate touch. She squashed it quickly and smiled understandingly at the couple. She knew that they had moved in together recently. They looked happy, content. She was pleased that they felt comfortable expressing their care for each other in front of her. It spoke to a level of trust that she hoped she had earned.

She smiled, almost affectionately. She hesitated a second before saying, "Love was certainly within reach for you two. It is good to see you two together. You both look radiant. I'll have to send you an invitation to dinner with me and the girls at my home. I'd love to spend some time with you two outside Runway." _Was that so hard,_ _letting that softer side of you speak out? Maybe I really can do this._

Emily looked absolutely tongue tied until Serena kicked her ankle under the table. "That would be …lovely, Miranda. We'll look forward to hearing from you." Internally, she cringed._ Just_ w_ait until she figures out our part in all this._

Thank you." Serena smiled warmly, "Yes that would be wonderful." She took Emily's hand and squeezed reassuringly having caught that thought from her lover.

The lights dimmed to a low glow as Marie caught Nigel's signal. The stage spotlights came up lighting the rich blue velveteen curtain at the back as Nigel stepped up on the stage and went to the microphone. "Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming tonight. Please step forward and take a seat. Tonight, we're going to hear a group I recently discovered and invited to our party. They are something special. Please welcome them warmly!" Nigel stepped off the stage and returned to his seat as light applause spread through the house.

Doug and Michael entered first, plugged their instruments into their amps and started softly playing. Andy stepped on the stage as they completed their preparations. She claimed the stage like she owned it, wrapping her hand around the microphone and standing, calm, confident and centered, feet apart, almost a warrior's stance. She checked out the room as the guys started the opening licks of the first song. Her eyes flicked over the table where Miranda was sitting. _Perfect, right where I wanted you. _Her breath caught at the sight of the woman before her and the enormity of what she was about to do. _Now…. hear me, see me, Miranda. _

Miranda's eyes grew wide as soon as she saw Andy walk on stage. She froze, her blood running hot and cold, caught between fight or flight. She looked quickly to see if there was a way she could easily leave and found herself completely blocked in. Seeing there was no way out, she carefully settled back in her chair, back rigid, jaw clenched.

Miranda looked at Nigel with haunted eyes, her sense of betrayal bleeding from that look. The raw pain he saw almost made him regret his part in this. He felt Miranda lean closer and heard her fierce whisper, "How could you do this to me? You told me she would not be here."

He looked back at her with compassion. "Trust me, Miranda, just trust me."

Miranda turned her head, unwilling to even look at him anymore. She swallowed hard. The deluge of emotions threatened to overcome her. She stared at the woman on the stage, breathing slowly and steadily trying to contain the rising panic. She could not lose it here.

As Doug and Michael picked up the rhythm starting to drive the song, Andy lifted the microphone out of the clip, nodded to her partners, moved to the edge of the stage ….and began. She'd picked Dave Mathew's, _You and Me_, as the opening song. They started out softly, instruments building below the vocals. The richness and clarity of her voice rang through the room, drawing everyone into the exuberant celebration of love that the song offered. Each time they hit the chorus in three part harmony, Andy looked right in Miranda's eyes and sang to her, _"You and me together we could do anything….The two of us together, yes, yes, we could do anything, baby"_. Then she looked away and continued to the end of the song, smiling and playing to the room, hips moving to the rhythm. As they finished, surprised, enthusiastic applause broke out.

As they applauded, Emily and Serena looked at each other, astonished at what they had just heard. Noting Miranda's frozen posture and shallow breathing; Emily looked over at Nigel accusingly. "You never mentioned that she was this bloody good. They're brilliant, absolutely brilliant."

Nigel smiled. "Yes, they are…she is. The hell with writing, she should be out there performing, singing in front of people. I have a few people to introduce her to later. "Glancing at Miranda, from the corner of his eye, he could see how thrown off balance she was but…..most importantly, she had stayed.

The direct look she had gotten from Andréa had Miranda flustered and unsure. She was astounded by the voice she was hearing_. How did I never know this about her? She sounds incredible._ Her eyes roamed over the woman in front of her drinking her in, aching, feeling a deep visceral reaction to her svelte beauty. And that leather, her fingers twitched, itching to touch, to stroke. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as liquid heat pooled deep in her pelvis. Inwardly, she groaned. _Gods, she has matured into such deep beauty …so strong and confident. _

_Ok, I'll sit through this torture and leave as quickly as I can excuse myself without making some kind of scene._ Almost involuntarily she relaxed the smallest amount, giving herself permission to listen, to watch and absorb. She would ferret away the memory of this unlikely, unexpected event. It might be the last time she would see her.

The guys quietly started to softly lay down the rhythm for the next song while Andy launched into an introduction. "I'm Andy and with me are Doug on bass and Michael on lead guitar. We're thrilled to be here tonight! Our thanks to Jacques and Marie for their warm welcome. And thank you, Nigel for inviting us. Congratulations to Nigel and Emily for their new positions at Runway. You both so deserve this. I was lucky enough to work with them and their Editor-in-Chief Miranda Priestly who is with us tonight." Her eyes beamed a challenge to Miranda as she indicated where she sat. Miranda felt her professional mask slam into place with the acknowledgement.

As the light applause died down, Andy got ready to announce the next song as they guys picked up the tempo. "Phew, it's a little warm in here." She unzipped and peeled off the outer jacket, exposing the sleeveless leather vest that emphasized all of her sleek upper body and the full curves of her breasts with the V cut that buttoned down the front." She smiled at the wolf whistle from the back. She pulled up the stool from behind her and sat, hooking a foot over the lowest rung as she grabbed the microphone.

"You know, love is a challenge. It gives you the highest highs and the lowest lows. You know what I mean?" she smiled at the audience murmur of response." Uh-huh, exactly! You meet someone, you fall head over heels and they just don't see you no matter what you do. Or even harder, they noticed but decided they were not the one for you." Looking directly at Miranda, she continued." And they push you out of their life. And it hurts… hurts so deeply."

The slow, longingly, lush beauty of the Beth Sorrentino's _Amazing,_ would shimmer with her voice. _Notice me, Miranda, notice me, hear me…._ _let the music touch you_. She kept her eyes focused on Miranda and sang the first line_, "_If I had a dollar for every time you said my name the way you do, I'd be wealthy but in the end, I can't buy anything like you. It's amazing how you notice little things…you don't notice me." And again she looked away and continued singing, carrying that edge of sorrow to each corner of the room.

_Notice you? I notice, Andréa. Damn you, I notice._ _I've noticed for a long time._ _And yes, I did_ _exactly that, pushed you away so you'd avoid the pain of being with me_. It suddenly hit her, how painful it must be to be on the receiving end of such behavior. Miranda's eyes widened at the realization of the pain she had caused. _I wonder if she has figured out what I did? _ Her hand reached for her wineglass and she forced the tremble from her fingertips as she lifted it and sipped, grateful for the steadying action as appreciative applause rolled from the audience.

"And it pisses you off, 'cause you just want to shake them and say, ...Hey, I'm standing right here. Right here in front of you, within your reach and I'm not going anywhere."

With a nod from Andy, Doug and Michael started the fill for the next song, building up a driving bass line and scintillating guitar lead. Andy let herself rock with the rhythm, standing and putting the microphone back in its clip, keeping one hand around it and leaning into Willie Porter's _Set Yourself Free_. She hit the chorus throwing out the challenge of the lyrics of the song. "Hey, hey give up the pretense. When you gonna be true to something you believe. When you gonna give me something I can feel, when you gonna show me all you've concealed." Her eyes skirted over Miranda's table, half-growling the words, an edge of anger in her eyes.

Miranda's tension seemed to pour off of her. As dark eyes found hers, the lyrics hooked into her deeply, stirring the deep pool of isolation, pulling on a tendril of pain and bringing it to the surface. Miranda swallowed tears that felt like glass. _It's just a song, it's not about me. She can't have seen that deep inside me, no one can. And god, she sings like a dark angel. That voice is like liquid silver tearing my heart into shards. _She barely noticed the applause as she numbly joined in.

"Then there's the direct approach where you just go up to them and lay your heart out there. Maybe this is someone whose has been hurt way too many times and the walls she's built up are so thick, she doesn't even know how to let them down anymore. And you'll do anything to touch her and climb over that wall."

Doug's bass set the rhythm with a gentle, repetitive five note cascade, as Michael slid in softly backing the melody. Andy dropped her head, closed her eyes and started to sing Holly Long's _Trust_, starting softly and building in volume. Mid-way through, she opened her eyes and sang right to Miranda, holding her eyes the whole time. "Gotta trust me with your dreams, trust that I can see inside them, trust me with your dark things, trust me that I can find the light inside them. You gotta look at me like a mirror and know that I am right here, right now, with you, that I see all the open wounds and that I really, really love you." She kept her focus on those sea blue eyes aiming her message into them, tuning out the rest of the room….._ Oh Gods, hear me, woman._

The world grew smaller with only music and words linking them. Miranda felt mesmerized seeing only Andy's eyes on her, lasering deeply into her heart. She heard every word and felt stripped bare. Miranda shivered deeply as she realized what Andy was doing. _She's singing to me, all these songs. They are for me, every one of them. Love… she loves me and ...yes, she knows exactly what I did and why. She knows that I love her. _

Nigel, watching her closely, saw her go pale and gasp a whispered, "No, this cannot be happening." He reached out a hand out to her, taking her tightly fisted hand in his. "Breathe, Miranda." He felt desperate fingers curl around his and clench, her anger forgotten.

She found herself in a turbulent inner fight as her walls started to crumble, as her desire surfaced, desire for the beauty before her, for the love, the passion she was hearing.

Andy saw her reaction and as the applause started to fade, she quickly moved to the back of the stage, reached through the curtain, opened the backstage door and took her guitar from the stand. As she did, Doug did the introduction. "We're going to do a last song. I've known Andy for many years. She is a talented songwriter but shy about it. She wrote this song yesterday and this is the first time she's sung one of her songs in public. Believe me, it's well worth the wait. Her song is titled _Unexpected Grace_."

She caught Doug's look of encouragement, slipped the guitar strap over her back and stepped up to the microphone. The dragon inlay glowed in the light echoed in the insert in the guitar strap.

She softly said, "Miranda, this is for you."

Tuning out the soft murmur of the audience at her words, she took a deep breath and began to play. The song started with intricate solo guitar work that moved over the entire length of the neck setting a musical theme that repeated. Michael gently came in, finding harmonies to complement the melodic line. As Andy started to sing, Doug's bass slid in, anchoring the song. This was the last piece in the spell she was trying to weave.

As she began to sing, Andy reflected on how the song came into being. The first verse was more a piece of her own story, how she got to this place in her life. Her eyes found Miranda's as she watched her every breath.

Miranda sat, stunned, unable to think. She focused on breathing, only breathing and…she listened, hearing every word. A subtle flash of light from the dragon on the guitar twinkled into her eyes. She barely noticed.

_Love seems to find me in mysterious ways. It slipped through a window and into my days. It stayed the night over and was gone with the dawn, an unexpected grace._

With the next verse, she expressed her discovery of loving Miranda, and hopefully, Miranda's experience of finding love for her. _And oh, you do take my breath away._

_One moment you're standing your heart on your sleeve, the next you're a prisoner of impossible dreams. You turn 'round a corner your breath… taken away, by unexpected grace._

The feeling of exposure was almost too much to bear for Miranda but she could not escape those eyes._ Impossible dreams, yes, you are my impossible dream, Andréa. What are you trying to do to me?_

As the instrumental verse began, Andy stepped off the stage and moved forward until she was standing right in front of the small table where Miranda sat. Relying on the strength of her voice to carry to the room, she stood and sang her heart out to the woman she loved, hoping she could hear the invitation her words and music offered.

_So throw your heart open, walk into the world, love will be waiting in mysterious ways. I'll stay the nights over and live on through your days, with unexpected grace, your unexpected grace, you're my unexpected grace. _

As the last chord rang out, shimmering in the air, there was a collective sigh from those gathered, followed by gentle applause as they stood. The audience seemed to realize they had just experienced an unprecedented event.

Miranda stood slowly on weak legs. Shell-shocked and shaky, she lifted a trembling hand and reached out, gently stoking the strings of the guitar, not even aware of the single tear that had left a track down her cheek. "I'll…..," she cleared her throat, barely whispering." I'll be in the car waiting for you; Roy….Roy is parked at the curb. Join me …please, Andréa."

With that, she pushed her way through those around her, grabbed her coat and was gone. Emily and Serena watched her go with concern before turning to Andy. Emily barked, "Go!"

Doug held out a hand, "Give me the guitar, Andy, I'll put her away for you. Go get her!"

Handing Doug the guitar, she shrugged back into her jacket. Nigel sent her an encouraging smile as she made her way through the party crowd, thanking those who stopped her for a word or two as she made her way to the door. The car was visible through the glass. Stepping through the door, she inhaled deeply.

_Well, here goes._

* * *

Miranda had stumbled into the car, escaping as fast as she could.

"Roy, we'll be leaving in a few minutes." She hit the button to slide up the privacy screen and immediately collapsed, bending forward over her knees, hands coming up to cover her face as tears finally released. _What had just happened?_ She hastily sat up, smoothing her clothes, wiping her eyes. _She'll be here any second_. _What do I say, what do I do?_

Just then, Andy entered the car from the driver's side as she always had, swinging long legs in and sitting back against the leather seat. Her gaze took in the woman before her, the tear tracks and the obvious state of almost panic she was in.

With a shaky voice, Miranda began, "Andréa, I don't know what that was all about but….I can't…"

Andy leaned in and reached forward quickly, two fingers gently covering Miranda's lips. "Stop, …hush now …..You do know what that was about, exactly what that was about…...We are not having this conversation right now. Listen to me." The pain she saw in those blue eyes touched her though she knew there had been no other way to do this. She held those eyes with her own as she spoke, her voice low and calming.

"Roy will drive you home. You will pour yourself a glass of wine, take it upstairs with you and run a bath. Put in those lavender bath salts you love from Provence."

"As the bath runs, you will light candles in the bathroom." She reached into the pocket of the vest and handed her a microdrive and a small scroll tied with a blue-black ribbon." You will insert this chip into the sound system you had installed and put the remote by the bath. You will turn off all the lights, strip and get into the bath. You will drink your glass of wine and listen to this song that I just sang for you and recorded on this chip. You will open the scroll and read the words."

"You will not fret and worry and deny and build a higher wall that neither of us can cross, vault over nor break through. What you will do is listen to your feelings, good, bad, indifferent, whatever they may be….. about me, about us. We both know there is an U_s_, named or not."

"Then you will put on your favorite nightgown, slip into bed and sleep restfully. You'll rise and shower and dress, eat breakfast, have coffee. And make a choice."

"There are two things you may choose between. Roy will be waiting at your door. He will bring you to me at 8:00 tomorrow morning. Or you may choose the opposite and walk away from this, from me, forever."

The fingertips that were resting on Miranda's lips could not help but give a slow, gentle caress across those trembling lips.

"Know that whatever you decide, Miranda, you are loved, so deeply loved. I hope to see you in the morning."

Her eyes lingered a moment longer and with that, Andy opened the door and slipped from the car, closing the door firmly behind her. She tapped on the window to let Roy to drive away. Not looking back, she reentered the restaurant.

Miranda did not see the tears that came to her eyes as she stepped toward the door. Andy knew that Miranda was probably in shock and taking advantage of that was not an option. She had done everything she could to create this invitation. It was the most loving thing she knew to do, to give her that space. It was Miranda's choice now to come to her.

From the car, Miranda watched her go as Roy pulled away from the curb, shaken by Andy's calm assurance and the love in her eyes. She carefully put herself back together in the time it took to get to her home, taking deep calming breaths, feeling the panic and tremors recede.

Miranda did everything Andy had asked of her, almost in a daze. She slipped the microchip with the song into the player mounted in the bathroom and hitting the replay button, listened to the song over and over again. The slip of paper with the lyrics had fallen to the floor. At the bottom below the handwritten lyrics, where the words:

_For Miranda, you are my unexpected grace. This is my gift and my invitation, my invitation to possibility. Love is truly within reach. _

_Yours always, Andréa_

She listened long and she listened hard. The guarded walls around her heart rose and fell as her mind came up with every excuse for why this would not work. And each excuse was met with her rising feeling of wanting a relationship with Andy, exploring what it would mean to love this woman, to have this woman in her heart and her bed. Bit by bit, those walls fell enough for the tears to come. The bath slowly cooled. All those emotions of fear, frustration, love, desire and denial rose and fell, sweeping through her as she allowed herself to have them until she reached an exhausted calm. She made her way to bed and fell in, tucking the lyrics beneath her pillow.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: My thanks to my wonderful beta, Weez. The mistakes are mine, as always. And again, I'm just borrowing the characters, not mine, just dancing with them for a brief time.

I need a name for the band. Send me some suggestions, please. It just might go into the epilogue.

* * *

**Unexpected Grace – Chapter 9**

Andy paused and watched the taillights of the town car disappear into the night through the glass door of La Nuit Sombre. She squared her shoulders and turned, wiped the moisture from her eyes, and moved back into the restaurant.

Nigel, Serena and Emily were talking as they stood close to the table where they had been seated. Emily did a double-take when she saw Andy approaching. She hissed, "What? What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you with her?" Serena quickly placed a hand on her arm, soothing and quieting her.

Andy spoke quietly, calmly. "This was my plan. It was never my intention to have some incredibly hot and ultimately sad little tryst in the back of her car or to trap her into this. I talked with Nigel about exactly this the same night he asked us to play. I know without any doubt that she has to be the one to come to me, Emily. That's how it absolutely has happen. Otherwise, we both lose. I've put my heart on the line in front of way too many people tonight. Now, she has to give me hers, freely."

That calm wavered. "This is either the bravest or the stupidest thing I have ever done. It's definitely one of the hardest things, to let her go. But…I love her…it's gotta be this way….." Her voice wandered off distractedly. …._Though my fingers are still tingling from the feel of those lips against them…velvet, pure velvet. _

She shook herself back into the present. "And I'll take the blame for this conspiracy tonight. She doesn't have to know of all the parts you played. Though Nigel, you're more visible in this. I can claim that you didn't know what I intended and that you'd just invited the band to play."

"Andy, you don't need to do that. Besides, she'll figure it out." He laughed softly. "It's Miranda Priestly after all. And… I can brave that fire."

He continued, "We all have such pride in working for Runway. Everyone admires and respects Miranda for all that she's done. The ways in which she demands and brings out excellence in all of us may be a challenge at times but she has always only asked of us what she gives of herself, her best. We're the cream of the crop, raised to the top. Right, Emily?"

"Yes, Nigel, exactly right. She may scare my nickers off at times. But she's ours."

Serena picked up on the note. "I'd love to see her happy. There was a moment tonight when she seemed so relaxed and trying to reach out. I want to know that Miranda. Can you imagine her when she's really in love?"

All eyes turned to looked at Andy. Serena continued with a straight face, "You've got your work cut out for you. We're counting on you." She ended with a smirk. "No pressure or anything."

Emily threw in, "Plus, your band is going to have to play at the Christmas party every year from now on."

"Oh, that's just great. I'm responsible for everyone's happiness at Runway, now. Thanks a lot, guys!" The laughter eased the edge of tension she had been feeling.

"And really, thank you all for everything. Nigel, you opened the door to this happening and conducted it all brilliantly. Emily and Serena, you were the greatest watchdogs and beauty team ever."

They were interrupted by the return of Roy, whom Andy had pulled into her plans. Andy gave him a huge hug and wistfully asked, "Thanks for the message letting us know she was arriving. It helped…..she got home ok?" They had developed an easy going relationship during the time she had worked for Miranda.

"Yes, she did. Her voice was a little shaky when she thanked me and she looked a little wobbly but she made it up the stairs just fine. I'll be there tomorrow morning, waiting for her. And Andy, I hope I'll be driving her to your apartment. I'll message you when we leave." He hesitated before saying, "If she's not there, I'll have to force myself to not go in there and bodily carry her out to the car. But…I promise….I won't do that. I'll just glower a lot and drive slowly all day since that thrills her sooooo much."

Andy laughed softly, "It'll be ok, Roy, just thanks." It was clear to her that Miranda had no idea of how many people cared about her. This was beyond loyalty. It hit her how much approval and support of their possible pairing surrounded them. It almost seemed taken for granted_. How surprising. I wish I could share this with Miranda, now._

"Well, I'm starving and thirsty and I need to try and let this go for a little while, if I can. This is a celebration in case we've forgotten it. How about we all go mingle and have a good time?"

As the group dispersed, Andy headed for the food, picking a few choice mouthfuls, knowing she had to eat something. Leaving the table, she ran into Jacques and Marie. She thanked them profusely for putting Miranda at ease with the wine and their warm attentive welcome. "Marie, the petits fours were such a fun idea. Nigel slipped me a copy of the one you had on her table and I wove it into the introductions." _And the private invitation she received…._

"Andy…l'amour, what can we say? Romance, love is everything. Nigel explained what was going to happen. How could we not help? You two make a striking couple. She couldn't take her eyes off of you. We hope that you will come back together to La Nuit Sombre many times in the years to come. " Marie added, "We're thinking of adding the petit fours with the fortunes on our dessert menu. We've had so many compliments about them. Now, enjoy the food, please and we will see you before you go."

She made her way to the booth where Doug and Michael were sitting and winding down, each holding a glass of wine. Hands trembling from leftover adrenaline, she carefully placed her plate on the table and sat. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a second, grateful for the slight privacy of the booth.

Opening her eyes, she looked at them both. "You two got me through this. You had my back and kept the music moving all the way through. There were no breaks where she could stand and leave. I couldn't have done this without you. There aren't enough words to express my thanks."

"Andy, if this doesn't work, I'm still up for the kidnapping. I've got family experienced in this kind of thing, knee caps, bribery; you tell me what you need." Michael winked.

"Um, thanks, Michael." At this point she was not sure if he was kidding or not. "I'm sure that won't be necessary."

Doug rolled his eyes. "He's a vegan, nonviolent activist, who's addicted to running besides being a crazy guitarist. Don't believe a word he tells you."

She smiled, "We did good, guys. We sounded great. I'm proud to play music with you. You make me sound good."

"You'd be good singing anywhere you choose to Andy. I mean, jeez, we used to do this together in college but you've taken it to a whole other level." He pulled a couple of business cards out of his pocket. "In fact, we have offers to play another party, a wedding for 500, and there's a bar owner who wants us two weeks from now for his opening. He specifically mentioned the sexy brunette with the killer voice."

Michael threw two more cards on the table. "This is from a woman who's a manager and wants to talk to us before we talk to anyone else. She was a bit aggressive. I kinda liked her. And last but not least, this guy is a music publisher. Nigel introduced us to him. Call him. He wants to hear the rest of your songs, Andy."

Doug eased out of the booth and stood. "We'll have to talk about all of this. C'mon Michael, let's start breaking down so we can load out of here easily. Andy, you guitar is safely packed away in the back."

"Thanks guys, and hey, we need a name. Let's start thinking about that."

The party was still going on with small groups of people chatting away while upbeat music played through the sound system. Andy sat by herself and managed to eat a few tidbits. She pushed the plate away and took one of petit fours. She pulled the fortune from the center and read, "Love is everything." She stared at the slip of paper before tucking it away. _Yes, love is everything…..yeah…... _

She took a sip of wine from the glass Doug had left. As she sat by herself, the evening began to catch up with her. She could see the entire evening like a video, freezing the frames as she zoomed in on Miranda. _The soft blues of the stage washed over her giving the silvery gray sweater just a tinge of color. It had looked so soft draping over her breasts and hips. And the way the silver in her hair had gleamed with the lights, so beautiful. Her eyes had gone a deep blue and yes, she was watching me, every move, every glance. Her lips would part and she'd bite her lower lipsor lick them with the tip of her tongue. I saw that little shift in her core, knew there was desire sparking in those eyes. __I hope she heard how much I want her. That, I will have to show her… I gotta keep my mind off this, nothing I can do right now…_

Andy rose and moved back to the stage to help her band mates. Midnight had come and gone. The combination of adrenaline, arousal and sheer fatigue had her wired. The party was still going on as she wandered through the room, saying her last goodbyes and final thanks while the guys started loading a cab to get them home.

Nigel walked her to the door. "Remember, Andy, magic and mystery. Trust it. You've done everything you could. And you're ready for her…..try and get some sleep."

It didn't take long to get home. Andy was quiet, gazing out the window at the city streets, ignoring the banter between Michael and Doug. Arriving at her apartment, she bid them good night and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She looked around wondering what it might look like to Miranda. It felt like she'd been on a long, long journey and had not seen the place in months.

Marie had thrust a bag in her hand as she left with croissants and the restaurant's exclusive coffee blend for the morning. She took the gift into the kitchen and put the offerings away. She washed a last few dishes and straightened things restlessly. Her tension was slowly growing. She made herself some more tea, lit a few candles and sat, thinking to herself.

_What if Miranda didn't show up in the morning?_ Her gut clenched at the thought. _I guess I'd take my shattered heart and write a lot of sad songs and try to go on with my life. ….cry oceans of tears and wonder all my life how to fill that void. God, that would hurt. More than it already has. That ever-present tiny edge of almost hope would be gone. And I promised Doug I would let go….._

_I have to stop thinking like this or I'll make myself crazy. _

She opened the guitar case and took out the guitar and started playing the opening chords of Unexpected Grace, sending the music out into in the world_. _She hoped it would lead Miranda to her.

* * *

Miranda sat in the back of the car, calm and collected externally. Internally she fidgeted, her mind mulling over and over the things she planned to say to Andréa. She had barely slept at all though without any dreams that she could remember. She showered and dressed, fixed her hair and makeup. She chose her clothes carefully, a simple silk ivory blouse over gray slacks, low heels, sexy minimalist ivory laced panties and bra… casual chic, barriered but with a softness to the clothes.

She'd watched Roy hit a button on his phone. Her eyes narrowed, "What was that you just sent?"

"A message to Andy that you are on your way."

Her eyes caught his in the mirror. She asked pointedly. "And now, you do her bidding?"

He held her eyes, the tiniest smile on his lips, "In this case, Miranda, yes….I do."

She looked away out the window, with a low "Hmmmph."

They arrived crosstown shortly. Roy exited the car and handed her out to the street. She looked up at the building apprehensively.

"I'll call for you to pick me up, Roy. Don't go too far. I may not be long"

"Yes, Miranda. Call when you're ready."

With that, she mounted the stairs and swept into the building.

* * *

The buzz of her phone woke Andy with Roy's incoming message. She'd had fallen asleep on the couch in the wee hours before dawn as she watched the clock tick toward the light of morning. She was still wearing what she had on from the performance the last night. She jumped up and hit the bathroom, scrubbing sleep from her face. She caught her eyes in the mirror_. Now…it's now…whatever happens, she's accepted my invitation…she's almost here_. She hurriedly made a pot of coffee with Marie's blend, filling the apartment with the rich aroma of perfectly roasted beans.

Just then, she heard a soft knock on the door. Barefooted, her heart racing, Andy hurried to the door and stopped, her hand resting on the doorknob. She leaned her forehead against the door and closed her eyes, taking a huge breath to steady herself. She opened the door to find Miranda waiting on her doorstep. They looked at each other silently for a moment.

"May I come in, Andréa?" Miranda asked with some ice in her voice, using that veneer of vocal control to assert herself.

"Yes, of course, Miranda, please…..come in." Andy ushered her through the door with a slight sweeping motion. "Welcome to my apartment and thank you for coming."

Miranda turned quickly, speaking waspishly, "Thank you for coming? Is that what you have to say to me after all that last night? Whatever were you thinking? And now…..thank you for coming?"_ Gods, she's still wearing that leather…that vest and those pants._

Andy stepped quickly into her space, meeting the challenge, "I have a lot to say to you, Miranda. Thanking you is just the beginning. And you're here, aren't you?" Brown eyes scanned blues that had quickly dilated with her step forward. Her voice darkened as she slowly scanned Miranda's face, and she spoke slowly and deliberately. So, yes...thank you...for coming."

"Let me…" Andy lifted her hands, sliding them over the lapels of Miranda's coat, skirting the silky edge of her blouse. "…take your coat." Not waiting for a response, she slid her hands across Miranda's upper chest and down her shoulders, sweeping the coat off and moving her body in even closer, almost embracing, her eyes gazing down as she did. She placed the coat on the chair besides them, her eyes never leaving Miranda's.

So close she could feel the heat off Andy's skin, Miranda gulped and took a step back, placing a hand flat against Andy's chest, resting on the softness of the leather vest. She could not help but give the smallest stroke to that buttery soft leather. Andy cocked her head sideways as she felt that small caress. Miranda could feel Andy's heartbeat pulsing through that second skin into her fingertips. Her eyes fell, focusing on her hand where it rested as she fought the urge to clench and hold on. _I just want to keep that hand right there on her heart where it belongs. _She steeled herself and looked back up to those dark pools, and spoke a single word, "No."

"No, Andréa, I can't do this. I just can't. I can't be with you." She watched as Andy's eyes shuttered and took her own step back, Miranda's hand falling away as the distance between them increased. _"_I've come to be honest with you, more honest than I was capable of in Paris. I owe you at least that. I hurt you. I never realized just how much until last night. It was never my intention. I'm trying to have the courage I need to do this right this time."

Despite having expected this from Miranda, Andy felt the immediate visceral reaction of hurt and rejection flash through her. She quickly squashed it._ I knew she would say this but it's hard to hear. Time to move this to the next level….. _

"Miranda…" Andy sighed and took that step forward again, "If you did not want to be here with me…" she stepped in again, forcing Miranda to back a step. "…you would not be here…," again another step forward. Miranda's answering step put her back against the door as her eyes widened. "…..with me…" Andy paused searching those eyes. "…now." She slowly raised her hand to cup Miranda's check and the edge of her jawline, the ball of her thumb resting over Miranda's lips, "But… here you are." Her thumb skimmed over those enticing lips.

Andy's eyes slowly moved over the face of the woman in front of her, memorizing, drinking in all of her. Her voice was so low she barely breathed the words. "And right now… I am going to kiss you…..Miranda." She closed the distance, her hand sliding through silver hair to the back of Miranda's neck, resting there, weaving into the shorter hair at the nape.

Miranda watched, hypnotized as slightly parted lips descended toward hers, brown soulful eyes fixed on her lips. She softly inhaled, preparing, all her excuses falling by the wayside in that moment. _If only this once…_ She felt like a planet pulled into the orbit of some rogue sun and let herself go.

Andy paused just before her lips found Miranda's, retreating a fraction of an inch. _Come to me, Miranda, come to me…your choice. _ In that pause, Miranda moved forward that fraction and pressed into that kiss.

Softly their lips met, velvet brushing against velvet before pulling away. Eyes searched the others, before lips found each other again. Andy's hand drew Miranda closer with gentle cradling pressure behind her head. Miranda's hand returned to its place above Andy's heart, the fingers fisting into the leather vest, drawing her closer, while the other arm slid around her slender waist.

All the old sayings of time slowing down proved true. With aching tenderness, Andy explored the warmth of Miranda's lips as a deluge of feelings poured through her. _Magic and mystery ...and such wonder to have her in my arms at last. _Her teeth gently tugged at Miranda's lower lip, nipping softly, hearing a gasp and feeling herself pulled even closer by the fist embedding itself in leather. The parting lips let her tongue run just inside the warm, wet, inside surface feeling Miranda's tongue find hers, barely touching. That tongue slowly pressed forward into Andy's mouth, seeking deeper heat.

Andy's hand came up flat against the door as her body pressed forward, feeling an answering arch of hips to her own, her other hand pulling Miranda's closer. Miranda lost her desperate grasp and slid that hand around Andy's waist, both hands grabbing the low waistband of her pants and tugging as bodies sank into each other, losing boundaries. Tongues explored and wound, moving between their mouths, sucked gently, savoring and tasting, mouths widening to accommodate and consume.

It was Andy who broke the kiss, laying a line of featherlike kisses across Miranda's cheek until her head rested next to hers as she pulled her away from the door and deeper into her arms, gathering her close. "Oh, Miranda."

She felt Miranda turn her head, resting it in the crook of Andy's neck. Andy's arms tightened as she heard whispered words, feeling breath over her skin. "Andréa, I can't…I just….I don't know how to do this. I don't, please…there are so many, many reasons."

Andy tucked her closer, turning her head to kiss her forehead, the kiss lingering. "Miranda, there is only one reason for us to be together. That reason is love. That is all we need. I put my heart out there last night. You heard me. Is there some other way that I can tell you that I love you? If there is, you only need to tell me."

Miranda's jaw clenched. She sucked her kiss-swollen lower lip between her teeth as she stared at the wall and then up at Andy. Andy simply waited, holding her lightly.

"This is so hard for me. You know that it is. The only two people I have loved so fiercely are my children. Until you, Andréa…Yes, damn you, I love you ….but….." The pain of trying for so long to suppress these feelings flitted through her eyes.

"No buts, Miranda…come with me. We're not doing this standing here. As much as I might like to just take you right here and now up against this door…mmmmm…not happening." She shook herself and took Miranda's hand and led her to the couch. "Sit, please." Not letting go of that hand, she raised it to her lips, kissing the back before letting it go. She moved close, letting her other arm drape easily over the back of the couch just above Miranda's shoulders, not quite touching. Miranda leaned in, drawn in by the care and calm and repressed sexual energy radiating from Andy.

"Talk with me, Miranda." Andy sat back further into the corner of the couch and crossed her legs. She watched as Miranda followed each move, scanning the long length of her leather clad body hungrily.

Miranda took a deep breath, looked away from Andy and distractedly looked around. She noticed the eclectic collection of items and the warmth of Andy's apartment. _How very much like her, so abundant with color and light, so warm and expressive._

She focused and reached for Andy's hand, anchoring herself for this conversation, clearing her throat. "Yes, Andréa, as you said last night, there is an Us but I have no idea what that means right now or if I can even do this. My track record in relationships is abysmal. You deserve so much more than I have to give. I do know I love you….I do….. despite all my attempts to bury those feelings. And…..I also know there are so many reasons why this cannot work. "

"Miranda, listen….listen to me. You say that there all these reasons. I know all your reasons, every single one. Loving another woman? The fashion industry is full of LGBT people. You are not homophobic or you could not function in this industry. And I've watched you watch me." A fingertip stroked Miranda's palm in small enticing circles. Her voice dropped lower, "I know you want me."

Miranda frowned slightly and dropped Andy's hand. "Andréa, I married men because it was the safe thing to do and I wanted children. I never felt for them what I feel for you. I don't think I have ever felt this in my life. It's not an issue."

"Your children?"

"I can't hurt them with this, Andréa. I can't allow that."

"You won't, Miranda. They always liked me, especially after the Harry Potter delivery. It's a modern world. Kids are educated about this stuff today and knowing you, they are sensitive to embracing differences. They will adjust. I am sure they would want their mother to be happy. They love you as much as you love them."

"The press? You're Miranda Priestly, for god's sake. You've weathered everything that has come your way. And they can't touch me. And my parents will support me in loving whomever I choose, eventually. I don't work for you anymore and it's been almost a year soon. There will be no skeletons in either of our closets that anyone can dig out. I am independent, have my own work, my writing, my music. I don't want or need your money."

"What else?"

Miranda's eyes filled with shadows before looking away. There was more. "Andréa, you are so much younger than I am. Your life is really just beginning and… I'm middle-aged. How long will you be attracted…..to this?" She made a gesture that swept down her body.

Now, Andy was the one to frown. "Yes, I'm younger. But if you think that I would give up a single minute of being with you for a promise of years, of a forever? I'm not that shallow. You're the most beautiful, interesting, intriguing woman I've ever known. I want you completely…all of you, your incredible mind, your heart, your body….." Andy's hungry look made Miranda shift in place. "Age will never matter to me, not that way."

"Besides, I'm an old soul. My mother used to drag me to this astrologer in Yellow Springs who did my natal chart. She told me that I was a very old soul who'd been on the wheel way too many times. It was time to learn my lessons and move on. She told me that this is my lifetime to do that. And I think you're a part of that. I keep having these dreams…..but…that's something for another time."

Andy felt a hand shift to rest on her thigh, beginning to pet the leather almost absentmindedly with small caresses. A dark shiver of want swept through her. _I am not sure I can finish this if she keeps doing that. _She reached and stilled those questing fingertips, entwining their fingers together.

"Did you know that there is research that shows that those exposed to luxury are often not concerned about or considerate of others, they focus on themselves, only themselves. How toxic that must be, to give away one's heart to such benign selfishness, to become so separate. I think you were starting to get lost in that, in Runway, Miranda and that breaks my heart."

She felt Miranda's hand clench as she took a ragged breath, moisture coming to her eyes. "Yes, I know that story, Andréa, all too well. I have felt so distant from people and yes ….so very lost. It's why I am leaving over time."

"I know your life is changing." Andy said carefully. "I want to be a part of that change. Miranda, I have seen your heart. I have seen your love. Selfish is not what you are. Yes, I know what you did in Paris. You reached beyond your own need and let me go because you cared, because you loved me. Never do that again. I want your shining strength right beside mine."

Miranda looked away, holding apart the last concern she had, not ready to disclose. Andy felt her settle against her, tucking her head against her shoulder, silvery hair teasing exposed skin. Andy shifted her arm to hold her closer.

"How did you ever become so wise? You know me almost better than I know myself, Andréa." Miranda's hand moved to play with the buttons of the vest, stroking the hem of the leather as her hand rested quiescent against Andy's breast.

Andy teasingly offered, "How do you think I ever survived that job? Though I am not sure I will survive this conversation with your hand resting where it is."

Andy heard the murmur of a breathy laugh. The fingertips moved more deliberately, undoing the top button of the vest. They traced the hem of the V where it lay against pale skin, following it down, caressing the soft upper curve of exposed breasts and the black lacy edge of Andy's bra.

Miranda, murmured to herself, "So soft, so very soft….." Andy sipped in air quickly, feeling the immediate response of her nipples tightening to that roaming touch as another button opened to inquisitive fingertips.

One hand moved to cup a full leather clad breast, a thumb brushing over the pebbled nipple. Miranda's head lowered, her cheeks nuzzling soft warm curves, lips leaving lingering kisses. Andy closed her eyes, feeling waves rippling from the touch of Miranda's lips on her skin. Her hand came up to stroke through Miranda's hair. Miranda turned her head and rested it against the soft swells of warm flesh, just breathing in the moment, hearing Andy's heart beating so close beneath her ear.

As Miranda's fingers found the third button, Andy moaned softly and spoke. "Gods, love. Before you turn me into a puddle on this couch, I have this perfectly good bed and we are not doing this here." She stood quickly, looking down at Miranda, with eyes too bright, and skin flushed with arousal.

"Come….come with me." _Another choice, perhaps the last…._She took a step back and held out her hand, palm up, waiting.

Miranda looked up at her feeling a tiny shadow of sorrow pass through her. _How could I not love this woman? She has led me to this moment, despite my fears, so gently, with such love. And still she waits for me ..._Miranda undid the buttons on the cuffs of her blouse as she stood. She reached forward and placed her hand in Andy's.

Andy walked backwards the few steps into the bedroom, leading them both to the foot of the bed, her eyes never leaving Miranda's. They stood facing each other as Miranda's hands came up to rest on either side of Andy's hips. Andy lifted her hand to run fingers through that forelock, pushing it back from the blue of darkening eyes. Miranda undid the last button of Andy's vest. It opened, falling to the sides as Andy slowly unbuttoned the silk buttons one by one of Miranda's blouse. She tugged the blouse out of her slacks, hands sliding beneath and up Miranda's back. Miranda shrugged her shoulders letting the silk fall away. The bend in her arm caught the blouse as her hands returned to Andy's hips.

Andy moved closer, lips descending to the smaller woman's. This kiss, a hungry one, pulled at the tides of longing both felt. Andy's hands glided up to the fastener of the bra and undid it. Her arms wound around Miranda, embracing so fully, it lifted her up on her toes. A flood of wet release tore through Miranda's body, sweeping from her center. Breathlessly, as the kiss ended, Andy gently pulled the lingerie off. Silk flowed to the floor in a forgotten ivory puddle, the bra going with it. Fighting a slight urge to cover, Miranda stood, raising her chin almost defiantly as Andy took her in.

"So very beautiful…..you are so lovely, Miranda."

Andy's gaze roamed over high breasts, hardly touched by gravity and childbearing; full handfuls, the rosy nipples peaked. Her palms came up to cup and press, feeling the soft weight fill her hands, her thumbs moving to brush and entice each nipple. She bent and kissed, letting her tongue glance across each one, followed by a soft breath of air, watching each nipple condense even harder.

She inhaled the fragrance pyramid that flowed from Miranda wherever she went, floral with base notes of amber mixed with the unique chemistry of purely Miranda. This scent had always driven Andy to distraction. She purred as that signature scent filled her senses. Hands clenched on her hips and she heard the softest moan. She looked up to find Miranda's eyes closed.

Those eyes snapped opened as her slacks were slowly unzipped. Andy dropped low to her knees in front of her, lifting each foot one by one, removing Miranda's heels as Miranda placed a hand lightly on her shoulder for balance. Fingers found the waistband and pulled Miranda's slacks down, delicate panties going with them, a damp patch of moisture darkening the silky fabric. She lifted each foot and removed the clothing, setting it on the floor beside her.

Miranda trembled slightly, her breath catching with the tenderness of Andy's touch. Hands moved up her body, starting at her feet in the longest, slowest strokes, moving up her calves, the back of her knees, the length of her thighs, scooting around to caress the crease of thigh and ass. Andy knelt up on her knees as she moved higher. Miranda felt her muscles quiver with the passing of Andy's hands, heat and moisture gathering.

As gentle hands came forward around her hips, Miranda moved to cover the faint silver lines of stretch marks over the small rounding of her belly. Andy gently caught her hands and held them away. Her mouth found each mark and kissed each one. "Life lines live everywhere on the body. These brought your children into the world. No shame….no hiding …..ever."

As she released Miranda's hands, Andy's arms went around her hips and she held on, pulling her close, almost rocking, overwhelmed by the depth of feelings that grabbed her, her cheek resting against the soft pillow of Miranda's belly. Miranda's hand went in to her hair, cradling her head, tears coming to her eyes as she looked down to the semi-clothed woman in front of her.

Andy felt a tear hit her skin and looked up. Miranda took that opportunity to tug her up and into her arms, muttering, "Too many clothes…up, come up here." The hands around her released and separated and she felt Andy turn her head and inhale, nuzzling trimmed silvered curls, planting a kiss among them before she rose.

As Miranda pulled Andy up and into her arms, her eager hands slid up her back and around, pulling the edges of the vest wide open, exposing the full cups of Andy's bra. Her hands moved to the front clasp and opened it, parting the lacy cups. Softly, Miranda began to talk as her hands explored. Andy stood, her hands resting on Miranda's shoulders.

"Beautiful, beautiful…so, so beautiful," Miranda licked her lips. "Andréa….do you know the legend of the selkies?" Andy shook her head with a quick gasp of pleasure as Miranda pulled the bra aside and her tongue traced a dusky rose areolae. "Well …" A warm mouth found the other breast, nuzzling and repeating that circle, feeling tender flesh wrinkle and tighten. "They have unearthly beauty with dark hair and eyes." Miranda laid a kiss on her sternum. "They're seals by day, men and women by night." She tugged the vest and bra from Andy's body. "You can keep one with you if you find their skin and hide it away so they can't return to the sea." Breathless, Andy's eyes widened at the hands possessively clutching her clothing. "You are my selkie, so sleek and so dark and daring in that leather."

Andy felt impatient hands, opening the clasp of the pants, unzipping and pulling them down her body, pressing Andy back to sit on the edge of bed, pulling the pants off completely. "You will not get these back, Andréa. They are mine, forever." She stroked the still warm material, lifting it to inhale the scent of woman and leather.

Beyond wordless, Andy leaned back on her arms, scooting back on the bed. "Here, come here…I need…..need you here.….." She watched Miranda drop the clothes and reach for the wisp of panties Andy wore, almost ripping them off before climbing above her, straddling her hips. Andy's hands rose, cupping Miranda's breasts, rolling peaked buds between thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, watching Miranda's head fall back with a shuddering inhale, breasts pressing forward as her hips opened, the heat of her core blazing.

Andy rose, partially sitting, an arm circling around to hold Miranda close where she straddled her hips. Her mouth found a hardened peak, teeth surrounding the nipple to firmly hold as her tongue flicked repeatedly, hummingbird fast, before releasing. Her lips surrounded and suckled, pulling deep into the warmth of her mouth, feeling the woman she held writhe against her with a low needy moan. Her other hand shimmied down the central line of Miranda's abdomen as her mouth found the other breast and played over it as she had the other. The fingers of her lower hand wove through damp curls, and she spread her thighs an inch or two more, opening Miranda's hips, spreading her for her touch.

"Wet, you are so very wet….mmmmmmmmmm. I can smell how much you want me." She hummed low in the back of her throat as she delicately teased those curls, looking up into Miranda's eyes. Miranda's hands clutched Andy's shoulders, her eyes dark, pupils dilated. Her hips undulated forward, as Andy slid two fingers slowly, one on each side of her clit, pressing and sliding a stroke or two, never directly touching. Those same two fingers slid back, gathering silken moisture and lifted. She delicately painted Miranda's lips before taking her into a deep kiss, licking and devouring her mouth, tasting. Breaking the kiss, she watched a delicate pink tongue swirl over heated lips. "You taste like… like the ocean, salt and life…and I want more of you, all of you….."

Miranda's skin tingled as blood sang through her veins. She was on fire and so ultimately sensitive. Each touch felt like tiny explosions flashing under the skin. Catching her breath, she dropped her head to Andy's shoulder, holding hard, trying to regain some sense of her own center.

"And you, Gods, Andréa ….you are a riptide that is pulling me out to a sea I've never known before…and hope to survive." Her lips nibbled their way up a long neck, to whisper, "Take me there…oh Gods, please…..take me there...make love to me…."

In response, Andy rolled them to the side so that Miranda was flat on her back. Her hands caressed, down arms, over shoulders, over chests and breast, over ribs and and sides, hips and thighs; memorizing every inch, mapping, learning Miranda. Her mouth planted kisses wherever she could reach, the heat and wet searing, teeth nibbling, setting Miranda writhing against her.

Her mouth found its way down as her body shifted, teasing through damp curls once again as she pressed thighs open and moved to settle between them. She kissed the soft insides of both thighs, rubbing her cheek against them like a cat marking her territory. She looked at the body splayed before her, with a feral smile. Fingertips moved to open gleaming lips, spreading them wide. Her tongue descended for one long delicate lick. Miranda's hips jerked up to meet her mouth. With a low growl, she flattened her tongue and began to drag it over the inner labia and clit, in slow building licks. She sucked each labium into her mouth, tugging gently before continuing. Her mouth descended to cover as much as she could as her tongue began to lave Miranda's clit, circling and flicking, rolling back the hood and pressing, driving her higher and higher. She felt desperate fingers bury in her hair as hips undulated to the accompaniment of guttural moans.

Moving lower, her tongue probed for entry, moving in as far as she could, pressing in and retreating. The fingers of one hand shifted, one fingertip circling that entrance, gathering moisture and slowly moving in, caressing tight walls, circling to relax and open. A second finger joined, starting to press in deeper and deeper with each stroke.

She gathered herself and moved up Miranda's body, her thumb moving to circle and tantalize the clit she had lovingly aroused. Hands clutched at her, anchoring, as her arm slid beneath Miranda's shoulders holding her.

"Miranda, look at me…..be here with me… right here." She watched sea-blue eyes dragged open, sex-lost. "Yes, stay…." And she began to move again, holding her eyes, watching the storm gather there, starting to drive deeper, working with the rhythm of surging hips moving with her. Her fingers worked, massaging the flexible walls as she drove inside, pressing deeper, faster as her thumb spiraled, pressed and flicked across the swollen clit. Hands clenched as Miranda's back arched. Andy held her eyes, "Yes, come for me…let go…" Her hand twisted so the fingertips could massage that upper wall searching for that different texture. She hummed to herself as she found it and her fingers danced arpeggios, pulling pleasure from the clenching walls. She felt hips arch almost off the bed, pulling her deeper. Miranda seemed to freeze on a long indrawn breath, her head falling back, eyes closing, then released with long pulsating shudders that matched the rippling waves of the walls holding Andy's fingers. She heard her name moaned as Miranda came.

Andy gathered her close, feeling small ripples catch at her fingers as they slowed and gradually withdrew. Her hand cupped and held, feeling the racing pulse starting to slow. Her thigh came up to press gently, a full body embrace. "I've got you, close…safe…in my arms, love." She rocked gently, leaving kisses across Miranda's shoulders and neck. Her hand came up to turn Miranda's face towards her. She saw tears, and quickly kissed them away.

Miranda fought to catch her breath. "Just overwhelmed, you…..not a riptide….a bloody hurricane…you are….." The words trailed off as Miranda lifted a hand to cup her cheek, searching those dark eyes. "Unearthly, yes ….amazing…..you move me to tears."

Hands moved through Andy's hair, running through its length as she caught her breath. Miranda slowly turned, fitting her body to Andy's, one hand fisting in that dark cascade to pull her down into a long kiss, tasting herself on that hot mouth. Her thigh slid between Andy's legs pressing up to the junction of body and limbs, slipping against the copious wet gathered there. She began a slow sinuous glide, sliding a hand between them, cupping, and letting the pressure of her hips drive. "Have to have you….take you…"

She rolled, trapping Andy beneath her with a fast wriggle of hips and shoulders. Her hips arched into Andy's, spreading her legs wider. Miranda looked down at the woman beneath her, noting the flush spreading over her chest, the deep breaths, an almost visible charge of need coming off of her.

Her hands, circled Andy's wrists and she raised her hands, kissing each one, before placing them, the backs flat against the sheet, just above her head. "These stay here,…. no touching." Her fingers trailed down the soft underside of her arms.

Miranda sat up, straddling Andy's thigh, her own pressing against Andy's sex, slightly rocking, leaving a wet trail. Her eyes caressed, from top to bottom leaving a burning pathway, drinking in the sight of her aroused lover.

"You are exquisite, so beyond beautiful….a smoldering dark flame. I used to watch you, wanting you ….but you are so beyond anything I could ever imagine." She leaned forward supporting her weight on her arms, brushing her lips over Andy's. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long"….her tongue traced over swollen lips, …" so full, so luscious"…..

"Gods, Miranda, kiss me….take my mouth…..I'm begging…" She was interrupted by Miranda's mouth fitting to hers almost roughly, her tongue pressing deep, twining around Andy's, sliding over sensitized inner tissue, teasing and tantalizing. They finally parted, gasping. Miranda captured her lower lip with her teeth, pulling gently, and then releasing. "I want those lips aching from my kisses. I could kiss you for hours."

Andy's head fell back, inviting, her eyes closed. Miranda's mouth moved down the length of her neck. She breathed in the dark, oceanic scent that lingered there with edges of sandalwood, chypre and chalone blending with the oils of Andy's skin. "Delicious, alluring…." Skin was kissed, licked, gently sucked, evoking a low moan of pure pleasure at a spot that Miranda returned to, sucking blood to the surface, marking.

Miranda's hungry mouth found Andy's full breasts. Andy inhaled sharply, her body opening with an involuntary roll of hips, her chest rising, offering. She felt a small sun radiating from her core, sending waves of intense pleasure ripping through her body. Miranda rocked into her as her mouth so deliberately ravished, seeking that point of pleasure and almost pain with lips, teeth and tongue. She felt Andy begin to lift her hands, and immediately twined her fingers through them, pressing them back down, her message clear. She heard a whimpered, "Miranda, I can't …need to touch you…." She kissed those barely coherent lips, her eyes holding a warning. "No….stay, just like this….for me…..."

Andy tossed her head, as Miranda kissed her way down her body, leaving small sucking love bites as she went, taking Andy higher with each one. Loving her was like riding the fast moving rapids of a wild dark river. Finally, Miranda sat back, her back straight as her hips rocked against the lightly muscled thigh beneath her. She ran hands down her own body, feeling the tremble in them, trying to catch her breath from the sheer intensity.

As the light from the room fell over Andy's splayed form, Miranda had a sudden vision of a terrace, with pillared walls, high on a cliff, and the two of them exactly like this as sea breeze and sun held them. She blinked and the vision was gone.

Her hand slipped between them and found Andy's engorged, swollen clit, delicately dancing over it, not wanting to send her over that last turn too fast. She groaned softly as her fingers were immediately soaked.

Moving fast, she settled between warm thighs, her mouth attaching like a remora as her arms circled rising hips. She felt Andy's hands snap down from their position above her head and bury in her hair as Andy's body arched hard and she released an echoing cry as two fingers slowly slid inside of her.

"Miranda, …yesss…..oh, please…more… "

She added a third digit, letting her finger form a tight triad, rolling inside the ring of muscle at the opening, before pressing in firmly, retreating, and pressing again, repeating as her mouth matched the same rhythm as she consumed her.

Her fingers whirled, tattooing love words on the rippling walls as she murmured, "Come, Andréa, ….my beautiful Andréa...come….." Her free hand rose to interlace with one buried in her hair, feeling fingers clench desperately.

Andy felt herself flung to the stars as lights exploded behind her eyelids. She sipped air as if it was too cold and thin to fill needy lungs from such heights. The arch in her body collapsed as she folded in on herself, body jerking with the intensity of the tide grabbing her, a long cry released. Miranda's mouth gentled, staying with her, milking every bit of sensation from her. She felt Andy's pulse dance under her fingers so deep inside of her. She slowed, her mouth soft, painting Andy's sex with feathered kisses. Andy murmured shakily as her fingers clenched in that hand holding hers, "Too sensitive…Gods, woman …you'll be the death of me". Miranda left the lightest kiss on her clit, smiling at the responsive jerk and slowly slid her fingers away.

Andy's hands grabbed and pulled Miranda up into arms that surrounded her. Miranda kissed her thoroughly, disquieted as they both caught their breath, and twined together, skin damp and slippery. Miranda soothed, her fingers ran through dark tresses smoothing them back from Andy's face. Her eyes searched, gazing into eyes that held hers. Andy smiled languidly and kissed her, a question in her eyes at the seriousness of Miranda's expression.

Miranda cupped her cheek. "Never doubt that you are loved, Andréa. Never forget, no matter whatever happens. I do love you. I will always love you." Her fingertips grazed Andy's lips, stopping the words she was about to speak. "And I do know you love me, nothing is more clear to me. Now, just let me hold you."

Andy reached for a sheet at the foot of the bed, drawing its softness around them as she snuggled into Miranda's body with an audible purr of contentment. Miranda held her close, tucking her against her shoulder and chest, treasuring her in those moments. Lips against Andy's forehead left lingering kisses. She felt the body next to her gradually relax, the hands around her loosening as Andy faded into sleep. Reluctant to let go, Miranda watched the shadows shift across the wall as the sun continued in its orbit and the day moved on.

She felt cast loose from all that chained her and overwhelmed by the power of this experience, stripped down to a vulnerable shell of self. That stripping down to the bone let her fears pour back in with a vengeance from the walls she had forced behind. Andrea had asked, "What else_?" _There was more and Miranda had not shared it. It was her deepest shame, her fear of abandonment. It had grown over time to become this monstrous insecurity, planting seeds of self-doubt coupled to an overwhelming feeling of being unlovable_. _Normally, she was able to bury this demon. But the possibility of love brought it out of the deep hole where she locked it away.

_ If Andréa does not care about age, I do. She should be with someone…someone younger….someone who deserves her. She will leave me as everyone one I have ever cared about leaves. Eventually, they all disappear, hating me…why wouldn't they? Why would this be any different? Why would she be any different_?_ She already left once, she will again. _She felt progressive waves of anxiety start to roll through her gut and catch her deep in its convoluted circular thinking. _I can't survive that. It would destroy me. Now…even more than a few hours ago. _Her panic was winning. All the reasoning that Andy had shared drifted away as that protective cloud of fear descended.

_Did I tell myself, just this once…. with that first kiss? Oh Gods, what have I done to myself, to her? _Miranda slowly extracted herself from Andy's hold hoping not to wake her. Almost free, she heard a sleepy, "M'ran….what? Where're you goin'?" as hands tightened around her. She carefully pulled herself free with a murmured, "Bathroom…," and kissed a sleep-warmed cheek, "Go back to sleep, Andréa."

She grabbed her clothes with shaking hands and quickly dressed in the bathroom. She quietly returned to the bedroom, drinking in the sprawled figure half on her stomach, nude from the waist down, her hair tumbling down her back and shoulders to barely cover one breast. She felt her cell phone in her pocket and guiltily took it out and snapped a picture.

Miranda stared, sadness filling her, trying to force her panic down. _Why did I let this happen?_ _Oh Andréa, how can I leave you? How can I do this thing that I must do…for both of us?_ Part of her just wanted to crawl back under the covers and just hold on, love this woman who had embedded herself in her heart. Losing that battle, she turned to run.

Out of the corner of her eye saw the leather clothes lying at the foot of the bed. Her only thought was, _Mine….._ She scooped them up and quietly moved from the room, her heels in her hand. At the door, she shrugged into her coat and heels and in one long step crossed the threshold, easing the door closed behind her with the softest click. She ran down the stairs and to the corner, phoning Roy to pick her up.

In the car, she sat numbly, avoiding the fleeting glance Roy gave her in the mirror. He left her at the townhouse, sadly watching her climb the stairs and enter, the door closing firmly behind her

XXXXX

Andy woke, blinking in the late afternoon sun. She reached out; hands searched for a warm body and found an empty cold spot next to her. Confused, she pushed herself halfway up and quietly called, "Miranda?" and again a little louder, "Miranda, where are you?" Not hearing a response she stood, wrapping the sheet around her, peeking into the bathroom first, and then checking the main room, a pit opening in her stomach. The coat and bag were not on the chair by the door.

She stumbled back into the bedroom, her eyes scanning the room. Miranda's clothes and shoes were gone. Andy sank down on the edge of the bed with a shuddering breath. Her arms wrapped around her body, clenching the sheet, hanging on desperately as she began to rock. "She's gone, she's chosen….," she whispered to the empty room.

The tears would come.

* * *

Gads, before people start hunting me down, no, this story is not done! but ...please review.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Again, Weez, my thanks, love. All mistakes are usual, the original characters are not mine and no profit is gained. The original song referred to is mine and copyrighted.

"_Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."_ _ - Lao Tzu_

* * *

**Unexpected Grace – Chapter Ten**

Heartbreak had always been a possibility. But the reality of it was something altogether different.

Finding Miranda gone, Andy sat huddled in on herself, rocking, self-comforting. She stared blankly at the far wall as tears quietly ran down her face, absorbed into the sheet wrapped around her. Little by little the impact crept up on her, the first wavelets of a rising flood. The deluge built slowly as she stared at some nondescript point on the wall. Inevitably, the flood building within her let go, breaking through its containment. She lowered her face into her hands and sobbed brokenly. Turning on her side, she curled up in a fetal position, huddling at the end of the bed, burying her face in a pillow, dragging the duvet up around her, wanting to disappear.

The emotional pain took Andy's breath away. She had no words that matched the Miranda sized hole in her psyche and her heart. It felt like she'd stumbled out of some air lock directly into an arctic blizzard, naked and blinded by the snow swirling around her. _Cold, so cold, I can't get warm….._She shivered, burrowing deeper, wrapping the duvet tighter around held on, trying to breathe through it.

Her mind circled and circled endlessly, searching for some logic, some answer that explained what she had just experienced. All she found were questions and confusion as she searched for some tiny crack that would let the light back in and help her understand. The physical memoires of their loving burned through her, leaving a physical ache from which she could not escape. The tears passed in wave after wave. She let them.

As the evening flowed into night, she finally slipped into a fitful sleep, only to be startled awake over and over through the night. Once, she found herself fuzzily awake as milky fingers of moonlight brushed over her, wrapping her in a pool of white. She looked up blearily at the lunar face shining in on her. Old tales whispered in her memory of those who slept in the moonlight becoming insane, losing their reason. Her fatigued mind whispered, _I already am crazy …crazy in love and lost, so very lost… _She watched quickly moving clouds crowd in, obscuring that luminous face. She eventually slipped back into sleep in the comforting darkness. Vague rumbles of thunder drew a whimper from her disturbed sleep.

She woke to rain. Raindrops streaked down the window as droplets made their slow way down the wavy glass. She rose and stripped the bed not wanting the memories those sheets held talking to her louder than they already were with the lingering scents and the ghost they held.

Andy had moved to some place deep inside herself, a detached, empty, fragile place. Calling her editor, she told him she needed another day or two off. He quickly agreed, hearing the flat, tremulous quality of her voice, so different from the bubbly Andy he knew.

She showered, letting hot water sluice off the tears, the sweat, the remains of their lovemaking. Watching the water circle and disappear down the drain, she wished it would take her despair as readily as her tears. Drying off, she felt a twinge as she passed over the mark on her neck, tracing a fingertip over it. She could not look in the mirror. It would fade, faster than her memories.

After dressing, she moved to the kitchen. Dumping the coffee sitting cold in its pot, she made some tea and forced herself to eat a few bites of day old croissant before throwing the rest out. She had no interest in food. The small amount she had eaten sat like a rock in her gut.

She needed some space to feel her way through everything that had happened. For now, she just wanted to be alone, to heal that raw wound. Before she came up for air and dealt with the world around her, she needed some time.

Listlessly, she sat down on the couch, placing her tea aside. Instantly, she saw herself in that exact same place with Miranda so few hours ago. She shook her head and wiped the tears that came. With them came an edge of anger, at herself, at Miranda, at the whole situation. The anger was quickly replaced by sorrow. _Oh, Miranda…I tried so hard, so very hard….maybe too hard…I just wish this did not hurt so horribly…Gods, what do I do with all this pain? How do I go on from here? _

She sat on the couch in the quiet of the room, her emotions circling, moving in and out of numb, tears coming and going. She slowly curled up and tried to escape again into sleep, halfway succeeding as she napped restlessly, curled toward the back of the couch. Edges of the dream came back to haunt her and she woke in tears, feeling the painful ending of the dream to be her true reality.

Sitting up, she shook her head, feeling completely overwhelmed_. I've got to do something, find something to help myself through this._ She grabbed her journal and a pen and stared at a blank page, unable to write a single word. Giving up, she reached for her guitar and started to play. If words could not touch this, perhaps music could.

She'd been playing for hours, at times lost and sitting with her arms wrapped around the guitar, her cheek resting on the upper curve, when she heard a quiet knock on the door. She set the instrument aside. Distractedly, she noticed a blister had formed under one callous, and opened and bled. Guitarists say a guitar was not truly yours until you bled and shed tears on the strings. She left both there, copper and salt.

There was a second louder knock and she moved to the door, looking through the peephole. It was Doug. Letting him in, she returned to the couch, sitting and staring straight ahead.

"Andy?" Doug entered, closing the door behind him, putting down the bag he had with him. "I've been calling you but you never answered. I was worried when I didn't hear from you. So….. I thought I would stop by after work and see how you were, how things went." He was met with silence.

Moving to the couch, he sat beside her. He started to put an arm around her only to hear a low, terse, "Don't...don't touch me…please…."

"Andy...? What…?" With alarm, he took in the rigid tension in her shoulders and the tremble in her hands. Her face was pale with empty pain-filled eyes.

"If you touch me, I'll …shatter. And I don't know that I'll ever be able to put all the pieces back together again."

"Oh, Andy, this is not good. What happened?" He restrained his natural instinct to offer physical shelter.

"I don't know…I don't know." She leaned forward, her elbow on one thigh, her forehead resting in her hand. "I don't understand…"

"Talk to me. Tell me ….." Doug kept his voice low and calm.

"I didn't know she was saying goodbye. She told me to never forget that she loved me and always would…..and then she left, snuck away." The words fell like disjointed pieces of a puzzle.

Doug slid his arm around her and pulled her close. Andy resisted, trying to pull away feebly until she collapsed into tears, leaning into him, her shoulders heaving. He held her close, rocking gently. "Let it go, I'm here. You're not going to fall into a million pieces and if you do, I'll help you put yourself back together, just like you've helped me way too many times."

He didn't know how long they sat. The tears quieted over time. He reached for some Kleenex and handed them over. A shaky hand took them and wiped eyes and nose.

Andy moved to sit up. "Sorry, didn't mean to ruin your shirt. I probably owe you one by now."

Doug pulled her back. "Stay. A tear-stained shirt doesn't matter. Tell me what happened."

Andy told him all of it, all the way until waking up with Miranda gone. "I'm so confused and so hurt. I don't know how to do this, Doug. I don't know what to feel, what to do. I don't want to feel all this and I can't make it stop."

"Andy, I'm so sorry. Maybe someday it will all make some kind of sense. It won't right now, babe. It's too soon. "

She sat up, scrubbing her face with her hands. "I hate this, hate feeling this way. Is there some kind of tourniquet for emotions? Breaking up with Nate was nothing compared to this…turmoil."

Doug laughed very softly, "None that works for very long or for which you don't pay a very heavy price in the long run. I've tried them all, believe me. Not worth it."

"Are you going to tell me that it gets better?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm still standing, aren't I? It takes time, lots of time. You have to go through it but you don't have to do it alone."

She was quiet for a moment, shredding a Kleenex into tiny pieces. "How do you quit loving somebody, Doug? It hurts too much loving this big."

"I'm not sure you ever do. You let go, just like I asked you to do if this happened. There is no magic formula. Don't ever be ashamed of loving deeply. It shows the depth of your heart and character, and the strength of your spirit. Never let anyone shame you for that. … And you, have you eaten? Taken care of yourself?"

"Not hungry, not one bit."

"Well, you're going to eat because I brought soup with me, just in case. I'm going to stay and watch you eat some of it."

Doug stood up and picked up the bag he had brought. "C'mon on Andy. I know you. You will quit eating and fade away to nothing. It's chicken noodle from the place a few blocks over."

Doug pulled the cartons out of the bag and grabbed two spoons. Andy reluctantly joined him, slowly stirring her soup. She took a sip or two and after her stomach did not rebel, ate about half the carton under his watchful eye.

Doug stood and put the leftovers in the fridge. "I gotta go, darlin', work tomorrow. Call me whenever you need to, come sleep on my couch, whatever you need, Andy. I'm here."

She hugged him tight, walking him to the door. "Thanks, Doug. What's wrong with the men in New York that one of them has not snarfed you up yet?"

He grinned and gave her a last hug. "I ask myself that question on a daily basis. Bye Andy."

As she closed the door, Andy realized she needed to call Nigel, and let him know what had happened. She reached for her phone. She had left it turned off all day. Nigel had left five messages. She sighed and called.

* * *

Miranda had stumbled up the stairs when she got home, dropping her coat and bag on a chair, clutching the leather clothes to her as she made her way to her bedroom. She headed to her closet and to a large lock box she kept buried deep in her closet. Almost mechanically, she carefully folded the clothes, placed them in the lock box and closed it, hearing the lock snick into place.

She walked to the bathroom and stripped, leaving the clothes in a pile on the floor. She ran a hot bath and slipped into the water. Washing methodically, hardly thinking, she erased all the traces of Andy from her body. Submerging completely, she hung suspended under the water in her deep tub, craving the quiet, hearing only her own heartbeat. She surfaced, gasping, hands rising to sluice water from her hair.

Barely thinking, she picked up the remote and hit play. Andy's song filled the room. She listened, "I'll stay the night over and live on through your days ….." and the tears came, the longing for that to be a truth in her life. Torn between desire and fear she sobbed until she was completely wrung out.

_Enough, enough…I can't do this._ She forced her feelings down, deep within, stuffing them into her internal lockbox along with all the tears that remained yet to be let loose. She rose from the tub and dried herself. Looking into the mirror, she stared at her own eyes, shuttered, dead of feelings, as she had desperately disassociated herself from the pain and buried it where it could not touch her. She raised her chin, watching the ice creep in those dead blue pools.

Turning off the lights, she slipped away to bed, not that she expected to sleep. Tomorrow she would call the girls' father and ask him to keep them for a few weeks. She did not want them to see her like this and upset them with her distanced behavior.

* * *

The atmosphere at Runway was glacial. The whole week had been rainy and cold. When it wasn't raining, low clouds hung, painting the sky gray. Cold winds cut through clothing, capturing scarves that flapped away like crazed, tropical birds. Garbage cans became the graveyards of inverted umbrellas. Occasional breaks of sun teased hopeful spirits, only to disappear in another bout of dismal weather.

At least, the transition plan was moving ahead smoothly. Interviews for their new CIO had been completed. They were in final negotiations with their top candidate, and she was expected to sign their offer today. Teams were ready to move into place to begin support for the transition to a digital Runway.

Everyone was polite but distant. Miranda moved between the usual arrogant demands on her staff and an almost complete withdrawal. The door to her office was rarely open. She hated knowing that her team had worked to help Andy with her scheme. It hadn't been hard to figure that out. It felt like the deepest betrayal. She worked hard to maintain a professional working relationship with them in the days that followed, never confronting the issue. The work went on.

Word had gotten around and the reactions varied from simple surprise to outright anger. Andy had been well liked. Nigel had let those immediately involved in on the sad news after having talked with Andy. Emily threw Miranda angry looks for the first two days before moving into a snappish, foul mood. Serena looked at her with pity… Nigel, with compassion and sorrow, shaking his head whenever he saw her.

Miranda could not stand it all. She hated having her private life hung out on a line for the world to see. She had always avoided it at work to the best of her ability. And somehow the press had gotten a hold of the story. Insinuating articles coupled with old pictures of her with Andy from the time she worked as her assistant had appeared. She found it more painful to see them together in the pictures than to be concerned about the content of the columns.

She took out her phone and found the picture she had taken days ago. Her eyes roamed over the sprawled, beauteous form the image had captured. She knew she should delete it but could not force herself to do so. She ran a finger over the small image and sighed, feeling tears stir behind her eyes. It was almost surprising that she had not worked a groove into the glass screen considering the number of times a day she touched that picture. Sighing, she set the phone aside on her desk.

At night, she barely slept, burrowing into her bed to wake over and over in a snarled nest of sheets. She stared at the walls and the ceiling, lying in bed and waiting for morning. If she did actually fall asleep, she awoke from a terrible dream that repeated over and over. In it, she watched in horror as a tunic clad Andy tumbled from a high cliff to drown in an unforgiving ocean, the balustrade they had leaning on looking over the ocean, giving away. Miranda felt her fingers slipping through hers as she tried to grab her and pull her back. But she was always too late. In the dream, she screamed her name, almost going over the edge after her, falling to her knees on the very edge. She woke, heart bounding, her voice hoarse and ragged, gasping for breath. That internal lockbox was slowly leaking.

Twelve days after Nigel's party on a Thursday, it started. First, it was Serena. She had lingered after a run through before a photo shoot and asked Miranda for a moment of her time. Miranda sat behind her desk while Serena took the seat in front of her.

"Serena, what can I do for you? Is this about the run through?" She coolly looked over the woman across from her.

"Yes…and no. We are ready to create the look we want in the next issues. But …this is personal. I know you won't appreciate it but I have to say this. There is only so much that makeup can cover, Miranda. The amount of pain in your eyes seeps through. The shadows under your eyes tell me that you are not sleeping. This is getting worse as the days pass. Miranda…you can't go on like this."

Miranda had gone rigid, her eyes darting, angry and afraid. No one said such things to her. "Serena…"

She was rapidly interrupted, "Let me finish. She's a wonderful woman, Miranda and obviously loves you deeply. There is something special between you two. I don't know what happened. But I saw a different person in you that night. I hope that… that woman, you…. will give this a chance."

Miranda just stared at her.

Serena stood, "I know that I've overstepped boundaries here and you could easily fire me for this. I hope you don't. It's an honor to work with you….and that's why I'm doing this." She looked back, compassion in her eyes, "Take the chance, Miranda." The door closed behind her.

Miranda stared at the door. This could not be happening, her staff confronting her about her personal life. She could function if she could walk through the halls, distant and aloof. But not this. Pity, compassion, were not part of her professional vocabulary. _No, this will not do at all._ She squared her shoulders. She'd have to pull it together. Redefine those boundaries. Fire some people. This was not acceptable.

A small voice challenged from deep inside her_. Is this who you want to continue to be? I thought we were going for the softer, more open Miranda. Will you sacrifice her to your sorrow and fear as well?_ She shook her head, caught in the turmoil between those conflicting selves. Sighing, she escaped back to her work.

An hour later, it was Emily. She knocked and flung open the door, almost slamming it closed behind her. She stopped in front of Miranda's desk, hands on her hips and glared.

Miranda sighed tiredly, "Yes, Emily? Have you come to berate me as well?"

"As well? I don't know who else has said something to you, nor do I care. I have sat on this for days. I have only one question. Are you bloody crazy? Tell me, Miranda because I don't understand."

Miranda stared at the angry redhead in front of her. Thinking to herself_, Yes, I just might be or will be soon._

Met with silence, Emily continued, in exasperation, "You must be if you can walk away from that woman. Why, Miranda? Why? Whatever it is, fix it. This is just not right."

Her eyes narrowing, Miranda spat out, "I don't owe you or anyone else here any kind of explanation. How dare you?"

Emily leaned forward, planting her hands on the desk, leaning in, her eyes hard on Miranda's. "How dare I? That's almost laughable. Don't you understand, Miranda? I give a damn about you. We all damn well do. This is destroying you. We can all see it. You have to fix it. Whatever it is, just fix it."

Miranda had leaned far back in her chair, shying away from that direct confrontation. She watched Emily pivot on her heels and stride out. Waves of anxiety began to roll through her, taking her breath away. _Am I that transparent? _She stared at the closed door.

Last but not least was Nigel. It was late at night and everyone else had left. Nigel has called and asked her to join him in the Closet. He needed her opinion on something. Miranda made her way down the hall.

They had spent many long hours together in this space, coordinating the fashions and styles that made Runway what it was. It was a space that had always felt safe and comfortable to Miranda. Today it did not.

When she entered, Nigel had a number of clothing combinations laid out for her. He gestured at the clothes displayed for her perusal. "I'm thinking about what we need to do to deal with the changes we face in losing the resolution of print on high gloss paper compared to monitor screens, or laptops, or heaven forbid, smart phones. We may need to go for some bolder styles and colors at first, while we work through that. What do you think of these?"

Miranda breathed a sigh of relief as they moved into their typical exchange of ideas. This she knew. This she could do. "I think most of these would work beautifully. I'd watch the yellow. It tends to bleed out to orange." Her fingers stroked the cloth. "I'm afraid of losing the sense of texture in online photos."

"I agree, it's a shame and we'll have to find ways to work around that."

He took a deep breath and started almost nonchalantly. "Miranda …do you remember when I began working here?" He gathered clothes from the table, putting them back on hangers.

"Yes, of course. I remember. We were both so much younger. Things have certainly changed over the years but you've always been here with me, Nigel."

"Yes, and I am now, especially now. Do you remember the funeral you came to in the second year that I was here?" He quietly placed the clothes, now on their hangers, back on the rack at the side.

_Oh Gods, he never talks about this. Ever_. "Yes, I remember." She shuddered.

"Whose funeral was it, Miranda?" He turned and faced her directly.

"It was Paul's, your partner." Her eyes searched his darker ones, puzzled by the distant tone of his voice and wondering why he had brought this up.

"Yes, it was Paul's funeral. Paul, the love of my life. I watched him die of AIDS. Slowly, so slowly. I watched every excruciating day until he finally passed, grateful and guilty that he was gone and no longer in pain. Those were the hardest days of my life." His eyes held hers, demanding her attention.

"Yes, I remember, Nigel. You were devastated." She shifted uneasily, uncertain about where this was going.

"Yes, I was devastated, beyond devastated…and you and everyone here, helped me, helped me recover from the loss. You gave me some  
framework of normal to focus on as I learned to live without him. I missed him every day. I still do and probably always will."

She tentatively reached out a hand, resting it on his arm. He looked down at that hand. This woman did not touch anyone, rarely if ever. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm not looking for your sympathy, Miranda. Do you know what I would do to have him back in my life? To have that kind of love again?" Her hand dropped away and she stepped back from the intensity of the sorrow and the anger in his eyes as they lifted to hers.

His voice softened and he stepped forward, taking her hand. "I would do anything. Do you understand that Miranda? Anything."

"Yes, I think I might." The picture of Andy filled her mind. She fought the edge of panic that quickly followed, willing herself to hold that vision in her mind.

"Do you? Do you really? You have a chance for exactly that kind of love and what are you doing? You are running from it. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would still choose him, knowing the cost."

Miranda gasped, as his words hit her hard, hearing the echo of Andy's words. ... _If you think that I would give up a single minute of being with you for a promise of years, of a forever? I'm not that shallow….._

"How dare you? How…dare….you…reject such a gift?" He spat out the words, tightening his grip on her hand, almost bruising.

"Do you know she has called me every day to ask how you are? Even though this is tearing her apart? I've had to tell her that I can't hurt her with that conversation any longer. I just can't watch her heart bleed out…or yours, no matter what icy cavern you try to bury it in. And that's exactly what you're doing, Miranda."

Miranda flinched and struggled to pull her hand out of Nigel's, her vision starting to tunnel, the fear winning. His grip gentled, but not enough so that she could pull her hand free.

He led her to the couch beside the table. "Breathe Miranda. This is not about Andy, this is about you. No, I'm not letting go. You need to tell me what's going on."

"I don't know what to tell you, Nigel. I'm waiting…" Her eyes flitted away, looking for an escape.

He interrupted her. "Then let me tell you what I see. I see the brilliant, extraordinary, courageous, driven Miranda Priestly brought to her knees by fear and panic, the fear of loving someone and being loved in return. If you don't do something about this, you're not the woman I've always known you to be. You're waiting...what are you waiting for?"

"I do love her, Nigel. I can't…"

He interjected, "Bullshit, Miranda. Love is a verb not just a state of being. It's something you do, not just feel."

She bowed her head, taking shallow breaths, trying to hold down the anxiety roiling within her. She wiped her eyes not willing to let tears fall. She was scarily quiet, so still in her grief and fear and the shock from his words. Nigel waited, listening to her silence.

Her hand tightened painfully on his, unnoticed "I am …terrified. I don't think I would survive what you have gone through. I can't imagine it. I know she will leave me, everyone does….everyone. I panic, I have to get away, to not feel that loss ever again…ever…"

"We all have dragons living inside us, Miranda, and they'll eat us up from the inside if we let them. Some send us screaming into the night. Sound likes you have a very hungry one. Talk to someone and talk to Andy. Do it soon. You deserve to be happy, to be loved. Please, Miranda…"

She relaxed her grip and looked up into eyes, seeing the care and concern there, "I'll try, Nigel."

He nodded. "Now, let me tell you about a man named Paul….."

* * *

Late that night, Andy got a call from Nigel. He'd been calling every night to see how she was doing, how her day had been.

She'd gone back to work on the third day, still hardly eating, barely sleeping. She'd promised Doug she'd let go of this as she could. She got off at a further subway station. It was a longer walk but it did not take her by the Elias-Clarke building. But she kept seeing silver haired women everywhere she went and it made her heart miss a beat every time.

Her editor was glad to have her back. Her coworkers were welcoming but concerned by the dark circles and occasional redness to her eyes, and by the disappearance of the effervescent, smiling woman they had known. The replacement was somber, almost robotic, spoke rarely and quietly when she did. She'd lost a few pounds and her clothes were loose. Her paleness was perpetual and her eyes had lost their sparkle. People tried to get her to go out for drinks after work or to join them for lunch. She declined every offer.

Andy concentrated on work, cranking out the syllables and the word count for the articles she was assigned. It helped to have something to do, to occupy herself with some kind of focus. She went home to her haven every night and hid herself away, writing in her journal, playing music, reading. When it was really bad, she took long walks in the city, once stopping to crash on Doug's sofa.

She made it to band practice and it was the highlight of her week. They had contracted with management and had a number of gigs lined up. They were working up two of her original songs. Somehow, it did not frighten her any longer to put her work out there. Trial by fire had stripped her of that little anxiety. They added her guitar into the songs and the mix only got better. The next gig was coming up in the next days. Music was a place she could always let herself be in the moment. She poured all her emotions into the songs.

Doug came by as the days progressed and took her out to eat; buying groceries on the way home when he found her fridge empty. He nagged, begged and threatened her. She just didn't care enough to bother to eat but she tried.

Was it getting better? She didn't cry all the time, and more time stretched between those occasions. Doug kept reminding her that it would take time. When she asked again about how long it would be and he'd shrug and say, "As long as it takes, Andy, that long."

The dream was back in many variations. Last night, she had drifted away from the marble temple over the cliff, moving further and further away, watching it recede. She did not fight it. She sat in the boat, letting the tide pull her out to sea. Slowly, the lights faded and disappeared as she drifted away in the darkness, leaving only starlight wheeling above her. She woke in quiet tears every morning.

When Nigel called, she had been journaling. It was a relief to finally be able to put pen to paper again. She'd struggled for days trying to write. It was another place to pour out her feelings.

She had been mulling over what had happened with Miranda. _I pushed too hard, too fast. I tried to convince her that everything would be fine. I don't think I listened well. She tried to tell me but I did not hear her, didn't want to hear her. I kissed her…but she kissed me back. I made love to her…..we made love to each other. She was so…there….with me. I just don't get it._

She'd put down her journal and answered. "Hello Nigel, it's late, I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"Just working late tonight, Andy. How was your day?"

"I survived another one. How are you, Nigel?" She could hear strain in his voice and it concerned her.

He sighed tiredly. "It's been a very long day. A challenging one, but I hope with positive results."

"I hope that is good, Nigel? You sound tired."

"I'm fine, truly. How are you really doing, Andy?"

"You know I can't stop thinking about all this. I know you told me to stop asking you how she is, that you won't tell me anymore. But I can't stop worrying. I think I pressured her too fast, too hard or I scared her with the intensity of all those feelings. I don't understand. It hurts, hurts so deeply."

"Andy, you said she left you. What if she didn't leave… you…? What if you're not the problem?"

She was quiet for a few seconds. "I don't understand."

"I thought you said that she told you she was trying to be honest with you? Yes?"

"Yes, that's what she said and I thought it was what she was really trying to do."

"Do you think she was? Do you think she told you everything?"

"I thought so…but…" Her mind slipped back to the conversation. "Wait…I asked her if there was anything else, if she had any other reasons we could not be together. There was a moment when she looked away and did not respond."

"So, what if there was something she could not share? What if she did not actually leave…. you…but ran for her own reasons?"

She listened with trepidation. "What are you telling me, Nigel? Is she sick? Is there something wrong?"

"She's fine physically, as far as I know. But I can't stand to hear you beating yourself up over something that might not be because of you."

"I'm not sure that I understand what you're trying to say." Her head was spinning from this conversation. "Are you telling me this was not my fault?"

"I'm not telling you anything, Andy. But rarely in relationships is anything just one person's fault. Don't do that to yourself."

"But she left me! Left me without a note, an explanation, a phone call, anything! How fucked up is that?" Her voice was raw with the pain.

"Yes she did."

"Why?" Nigel heard her anguish in that question.

"Why indeed? Maybe that's the question you need to answer, Andy. Was there anything else she said or did that night? Anything unusual?"

Andy thought back. She'd been too lost in some of the moments to think too clearly. Distractedly, she said, "She called me her selkie."

"What? She called you her what?"

"Her selkie, she called me her selkie. She talked about some myth where magical seal-like beings come to land. She told me that if you found their skin you could keep them with you."

"I know that legend. There's a piece missing if that's all she told you. The only reason someone wants to keep the skin of a selkie is because they love them and don't want them to leave and return to the sea."

"Oh …fuck me, Nigel. I think…I haven't see those clothes since that day….I'm almost sure she took the leather vest and pants with her. Where else would they be? I haven't exactly been doing a lot of laundry and my place is a mess. I thought I had just kicked them under the bed or something. The jacket is hanging in my closet. Just a minute…" She quickly moved into the bedroom and peeked under the bed. Besides a lone sock, there was nothing. "Yes, she must have taken them. Why would she do that?"

"Andy, she took your …er, skin…that's exactly what she did….but she's missing a piece, the jacket." He thought to himself. _She's testing you and doesn't even realize it herself. No wonder she had said she was waiting. She never said what she was waiting for. I don't think she even knows." _

"Too many whys, Nige_. _I'm even more confused, thoroughly worn out, my heart hurts trying to talk about her and I can't think straight anymore tonight."

"Come back to that why when you can. I think you need to see her and talk with her."

"Why don't I just walk to up her, hand her a knife, bare my chest, and let her hack out my heart?" she said sarcastically. "It might be less painful. Why would I want to put myself through that again? I'm only barely getting to the point of not crying every other minute."

"Is it finished, Andy? If you can't say yes, it's not over. Andy, go to bed, let it be, think about it tomorrow, feel about it and do what you need to do. Ok?"

"Well, ok. I'll try. Hey, Nigel? We're playing tomorrow night. I won't be home until super late. Come by and hear us play, if you want to. It would be good to see you. Sleep well….and thanks, I think."

"Good night Andy, try to sleep"

It was past midnight. Andy sat for a minute. Too tired to think anymore and too emotionally exhausted to explore that haunting why, she headed to bed, hoping to really sleep.

* * *

It was close to 11:30 and they were getting ready to wrap up their second set. The bar was known for the performers the owner brought in. It was filled this Friday night with a respectful, mostly listening crowd. They'd gotten warm applause that grew as the night went on. Their friends sat a table off to the side, listening and supporting.

A figure in a shadowed corner in the back reached for her glass and took a nervous sip. She blended into the crowd in her black cowl necked sweater and crisp denim jeans. Unobtrusive and quiet, she drew no attention.

Miranda had followed up on Nigel's suggestions and was here to find a way to approach Andy. She had overheard Nigel and Emily deciding to meet at the bar around 9:00 for drinks and to go support the band. Nigel had invited a small group of friends to meet them there.

Following her instincts, she showed up around 9:30 and found a place in the back by herself. Nursing a glass of wine, she listened and watched, drinking Andy in, waiting for an opportunity and taking advantage of it when it came.

Andy had just started to introduce their last song when a voice from the back spoke up, "Play Unexpected Grace." There was a spattering of applause from the few that had heard it almost two weeks ago. Andy paled and cringed internally, "We're letting that one rest for a while, thanks though." _Yeah, like forever. I don't think I'll ever be able to sing it again._

"Please….." Andy was startled. The voice was closer. It was a woman's voice though it was hard to hear with the background voices. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the stage lights, trying to see. She made out the silhouette of a figure approaching the edge of the pool of light pouring off the stage.

The silhouette resolved as she stepped closer and now she recognized the voice. _Oh gods, it's Miranda. How can she be here? _She watched her step up to the edge of the stage looking up at her.

"Please, Andréa. Sing it …." Her voice was pitched so low that only Andy could hear her words.

Andy stared at her. Her eyes flitted to Nigel at the side table. He nodded. She covered the microphone with her hand, looked down and whispered, "Miranda, I don't know if I can sing…. that. What are you doing here?"

"For you, I'm here for you. And yes, you can. I'm asking this of you. I'm right here…listening…"

She stared at her, taking in Miranda's raised face, seeing the resolution in her eyes.

Deciding, she turned to Michael and Doug. Doug quickly asked, "Andy. Are you ok? Do you really want to do this?"

"Yeah, one last time." She took a shaky breath, turned back to the microphone. She glanced down at Miranda and looked around the room. "Thanks to you all for coming tonight. We're going to finish with one of my own, by special request."

She played the delicate notes of the introduction, her hands shaking, finally settling as she closed her eyes and found the familiar progression of chords and notes. She opened them expecting to find Miranda had moved away, sitting somewhere else but she was right there, looking up at her.

She sang to the room, to Miranda, getting through it verse by verse. By the time she reached the last, her voice was edged with tears, rough and breathy. "_So, throw your heart open, walk into the world. Love may be waiting in mysterious ways. I'll stay the nights over and live on through your days, with unexpected grace." _She couldn't finish the last two repeats of the final words. Her throat had closed swallowing tears. She dropped her head as she finished the ending, letting dark hair curtain her face.

The applause rolled over them. Miranda reached up and tugged her down, forcing her to partly kneel. She leaned forward and kissed her softly, turning it into a hug, her mouth by Andy's ear. "Thank you. I love you, Andréa." She kissed her cheek and stepped back, her hand moving to cradle that same cheek.

"Come with me, please, to my home." She waited, searching Andy's eyes, giving her time to make her decision.

Andy stared at her, her eyes shadowed, thinking. _Guess I'm going to hand her that knife._ She turned her face into the palm resting so softly against her skin and left a whisper of a kiss against the lifeline, wistfully wishing her name lay somewhere on that line.

"I'll get my things and join you." Questioning, solemn eyes searched blue ones. "Just a minute."

"I'll be right here." Miranda breathed a sigh of relief, releasing some of the tension she was holding.

Andy turned, reaching for the case for her guitar. Doug looked at her with concern. "Is this a good idea?"

"I don't know but I'm going to find out. At least, I can ask for some answers to my questions. I'll let you know." She closed up the case and reached for her jacket and the bag she had brought with her.

Miranda had made her way to Nigel, Emily and Serena through the dispersing crowd. Emily and Serena were putting on coats, about to leave. They watched her approach warily, exchanging glances. Lifting her chin, she paused, looking at each of them.

"Thank you. Thanks to each of you for having the courage to try and talk to me and for caring enough. I'm not used to having ...well, friends. Have patience with me while I learn how to do this, please."

Surprised, Serena leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad." Emily followed. "Me too. And we've got to go. It's late. See you all later."

That left Nigel. "Thank you, Nigel, for everything. I heard you." He nodded. She felt Andy come up beside her and hooked her hand through the crook of her arm.

"I'll call you, Nigel…soon." They made their way out into the night air where Roy waited.

* * *

Later, after packing the instruments and equipment away, Doug spotted Nigel sitting alone at the bar. He walked up and put an arm across his back, patting his shoulder. "Thank you. I think you had something to do with this. I don't know what but…. I hope they work something out."

"I think they will. I hope they will. The work of a fairy godfather is never done, though it may be time to hang up those wings."

Doug looked at him quizzically. "I'm not sure I got that last part? But I'm sure if you're wearing some kind of wings, they are most likely Armani." He smiled. "And I never thanked you for the clothes. They were beautiful, delicious! You've got some magic there, Nigel, wings or not."

"They looked good on you. You'll set the bar for sophisticated fashion for bass players. There might be a spread in the new Runway for that, The Men of Music." He stopped abruptly. "Gads, I'm becoming the new Miranda, fashion on the brain 24/7. Forgive me."

He hesitated, "How about a drink, Doug? We could sit and talk, get to know each other a little more."

Doug's smile lit up. "It would be absolutely my pleasure, Nigel." He signaled the bartender. "What are you drinking?"

* * *

Roy was waiting at the curb. Greeting Andy with a smile, he stored her guitar and bag in the trunk and opened the door, handing her into the car to join Miranda. They sat apart, quietly, as the car pulled away from the curb. Miranda carefully put her hand palm up on the seat and waited. Andy glanced down then carefully twined her fingers with Miranda's, holding lightly.

She looked out the window, blinking to clear her eyes of tears. _Never thought I would be here again. _Leaning her forehead against the cool glass, she closed her eyes, letting the tears run silently down her face, unaware that her fingers clenched. A watery inhale gave her away.

She felt Miranda turn to her with concern. "Andréa?" She turned her face to look at Miranda.

Miranda looked at the woman before her. She took in the loose fitting clothes; the dark hurt-filled shadows under tear dampened eyes. Miranda's fingers brushed wet from prominent cheekbones. _Gods, what have I done to her_?

"You broke my heart, Miranda." She answered as though the question had been asked aloud.

"I know, Andréa. I know….."

Her arm went around Andy's shoulders pulling her close. Andy let herself be pulled in, her head going to Miranda's chest, tucking under her chin. She sighed as her cheek rested against soft cashmere, the gentle swell of breast and breathed in familiar perfume. Closing her eyes, she felt butterfly kisses land on her forehead, as soft lips rested against her skin. Her hand tentatively settled on Miranda's thigh.

Within minutes, they arrived and made their way into Miranda's townhouse. Once coats had disappeared, they stood, facing each other. Miranda reached out a hand. "Andréa…."

Andy stepped back, skittishly, "Why were you there tonight, Miranda?"

"I came to get you. I couldn't wait any longer…"

"I was coming here tonight …planned to after the set. I needed to give you something that you left at my apartment…and to ask some questions, if you agreed to talk with me. Don't worry, I have no expectations. You chose very clearly."

Puzzled, Miranda watched her pull a bundle from the bag she had brought.

"You called me your selkie and then you took my…my skin…when you left. " She frowned nervously. "I'm not sure if the rest is buried somewhere in your backyard, hidden away where I'll never find them. I hope not and I am not going to start digging in the shrubbery." She very carefully handed her the bundled blue-black leather jacket, part of the outfit she had worn that night. "This is yours, just like my heart, my ridiculous heart. Keep them, for whatever reason these have meaning for you."

Miranda's eyes widened as she realized what Andy was holding. A click of some unstated completion washed through her. Unknowingly, this was what she had been waiting for. She had returned to her. "You astonish me, Andréa. This means so much to me. I need them for now." She took the jacket and tenderly folded it, bringing it up to her chest, cradling the garment. "I'll put this with the rest upstairs." She stepped closer to run fingers through dark tresses, saying softly, "Thank you."

Andy impatiently dragged her hand from her hair, dropping it. "I'm not sure I understand all this, any of it. The clothes?" Her words came faster driven by her confusion and heartache. "Why would you tell me that you love me and just vanish? You made love with me and ….bolted. Why? That is so fucked up. You have to tell me why. Or I…." She shook her head, looking away, as her voice trailed away and she eyed the door.

"I understand and I will, I promise I will…and for now, come with me." She stepped on the first step and held out a hand, waiting for Andy's to couple with hers.

Andy looked at the waiting hand, hesitating. She watched Miranda's hand stretch forward and her arm extend further to her. With a sigh of apprehensive consent, her arm drifted up and her fingers joined those waiting for hers.

Miranda drew her slowly up the stairs and into her bedroom. She sat Andy on the bed and kneeling, slipped off her shoes. "I'm starting a bath for us. I'll be right back." She disappeared for a moment. Andy, worn out and moving toward numb, gazed around the soft feminine comfort of the room, taking it in, as the faint sound of running water came to her. Miranda appeared in front of her, tugging her up and into a candle-lit bathroom. She felt nimble fingers undoing buttons and zippers as she was efficiently stripped of her clothes and handed into the deep tub. Second later, she felt an equally naked body settle behind her, arms wrapping around her and pulling her back.

Miranda kissed her cheek and reached for a soft loofah and liquid soap. She gently began to wash the tense body in front of her, almost ritually, wishing she could strip all the hurt away. Andy slowly, so slowly, relaxed into her care. Miranda rinsed as she went, sluicing water over soapy skin, her hands soothing lovingly, letting them speak for her. When finished, she leaned back, settling them both deeper in the tub. Her hand was lifted from where it lay around Andy's waist and brought to a warm mouth, kissed and held there, soft breath bathing the skin.

"Bed now, we'll talk in the morning." Towels were left draped on the edge of a draining tub as Miranda slipped Andy into her bed and slid in, curling up behind her, holding her close. Her hand was captured and held with a whispered, "G'night."

"Goodnight, beloved one." Miranda did not expect to sleep. Gratitude for the presence of the woman in her arms filled her. She felt herself relax into the warmth in her arms, breathing in synch with Andy.

Hours later she was startled out of a light sleep by a noise and agitated movement. Hearing Andy whimper in her sleep, her arms tightened around her. Muttered words came to her, "M'ran….no…please, no….."

"Andréa, wake up, you're safe. I'm right here." She shook her shoulder carefully.

Andy startled awake and half-sat up, sucking in a gasping breath and falling back to the bed. Andy turned, facing Miranda and huddling close. "Nightmare, these nightmares, every night. Falling,..always falling into the coldest deepest water, so deep. You were there, reaching for me…couldn't reach the surface, the light…"

Miranda felt a chill run through her. It was the other half of the dream that had been haunting her. "Hush, darling. You're safe and I'm right here." She held on, gently rocking, feeling the body in her arms slowly relax, settling into her and sliding back into sleep. She watched the dark of the room slowly recede with the light filtering through the curtains with the dawn, her thoughts troubled.

* * *

Andy woke to the quiet of a room lit by gentle stands of sunlight sneaking around the edges of the almost closed curtains. Alone. For a second, she flashed back to that last morning and fear caught her. She sat up searching the room with her eyes. The door opened with the chatter of china and she watched Miranda enter with a tray. Miranda's eyes widened as she saw Andy's obvious distress. "Andréa? What is it?"

Andy exhaled sharply, her hands coming up to cover her face, before dropping down to the blanket as she fell back against the pillows. "I was so totally out of it. I thought you were gone….again."

Miranda quickly put down the tray and sat on the bed at her side. She tucked strands of hair behind Andy's ears as Andy pulled the sheet up over her breasts, feeling vulnerable and exposed with the morning light.

"I'm right here, Andréa. With you, as I choose to be. I went downstairs to bring up some coffee, something to eat." She stood and brought the tray to the bed, pouring them both a cup of coffee, uncovering toast, butter and jam.

"We're going to talk but I need to see you eat something. You're much too thin and it worries me." Miranda buttered a piece of toast, spreading jam over it, lifting it to Andy's mouth. "Eat this."

Andy took the toast from Miranda with exasperation. "You're worse than Doug." She took a tentative bite. They ate and drank in quiet companionship before Miranda set the tray on the floor.

She moved to the other side of the bed, slid her silk robe off, laying it on the bottom of the bed and slid beneath the covers. Andy watched her with wide eyes, surprised. "What are you doing?"

Miranda plumped some pillows behind her, pulled the sheet higher and turned partly on her side.

"This is the talking part. Equally naked." She reached over and took Andy's hand.

Andy looked at their hands. "Miranda, I don't know what to say to you. I need to understand what happened." Her yes lifted to Miranda's. "Tell me, please. Why? If I did something wrong, I'm sorry."

"No, please, no, Andréa. This is all mine. All of it. You did nothing wrong, never think that you did. I do so love you. I told you to never doubt that and then I sprinted away. I hurt you deeply and I'm so ashamed of that. I'm do my best to explain what I know to you."

"I'm listening." Andy settled back, turning more toward Miranda.

"I have all this fear, this terror that grabs me by the throat. I panic and I run." An edge of fear caught her as she started to explain and her hand tightened on Andy's.

"What are you so afraid of, Miranda?"

"Everyone leaves me, disappears sooner or later. All of them left. It always ends badly. I'm hated and vilified. I feel totally unlovable. Gods, this sounds so pitiful." She felt Andy start to pull her hand away. "No, don't please. It's not you. It's me, totally me. I'm…..broken in some places. Abusive, accusing words, hateful actions and I absorbed it all, twisted it inside me. I get overcome with this dark cloud that comes over me. I disappear and there is just this …terror …this panic that takes me over. My mind gets filled with this empty logic that circles and circles. It drives me to get away, to run. And I did. I ran from you. I kept telling myself you deserved someone better than me, that I was doing the right thing. I convinced myself that you would leave me."

Andy listened, hearing the honesty and the rawness of Miranda's words. She remembered Nigel's questions challenging her about her responsibility in this. She squeezed Miranda's hand. "I believe that, believe you. Tell me how you're able to share this now."

"Because I love you. Because I want your love in my life. Because I deserve better from myself and so does everyone around me, you, my girls, anyone that could care for me." Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

Andy turned completely on her side to face Miranda, compassion winning. "And?"

"Nigel confronted me, tore into me, rightfully so. He forced me to look at this before I hurt myself anymore from the pain of wanting you and losing you." Her eyes filled with tears. "I've already caused enough pain with my unspeakable behavior, something I will l always regret and never forget."

Andy shifted to sit up higher against the pillows, sliding closer and lifting an arm around the smaller woman. "Here, Miranda." She felt the shift of weight as Miranda laid her head carefully against her shoulder. Her hand came up to Andy's opposite shoulder, clenching in the sheets.

"You need to know, I called someone yesterday morning, a specialist. I hated doing that but I had to. She worked me in as an emergency and we talked for two hours. She listened and was very clear, blunt actually, about what happens from here. I'm going to see her regularly. I filled a prescription she gave me for times when it gets bad. I don't want to need pills or use them. I have hope that I can learn to deal with this."

"Andréa, I'm running on pure guts right now, skirting the edge of panic. But I'm not running from this, from you, from my life ever again. I'm under no illusions that this will be easy."

She lifted her head and searched Andy's eyes, questioning, "I feel like I have no right to ask but I hope you can give me a chance. I'm not asking you to save me. This is mine to do. But you told me you wanted my strength shining next to yours. I want that as well." Her head fell to Andy's chest. "Please."

Andy wrapped her arms around her and rolled them over, her eyes lasering into Miranda's. "You never lost that chance. I love you, that hasn't changed. I want you whole and happy whether I'm in your life or not. And yes, I want to be part of that. But I'm no white knight charging in to save you from yourself. This is yours to do. All I can do is love you, remind you that you are loved. Yes?"

She watched Miranda's eyes fill as she nodded and leaned forward, kissing her softly. "I give you my willingness to love you every day, every single day and I ask you for the same. Can you give me that?"

"Yes, with all my heart. You love with such wondrous abundance and with such grace. You humble me, Andréa. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Miranda, you came to me. And now, you've shared this. I can see how hard that was to do. It makes all the difference. There's nothing to forgive. You didn't try to create this mess and you're doing something about it… There is one thing I will ask from you."

"What is it? Anything…..

"Soon, find a word that you can use anytime you start to panic so I know what's going on. And…you need to tell me what I can do as you learn what you need. You have to talk to me. If you can't do that, I'm gone. As much as I love you, I won't do this again, not like this. "

They twined together in a tight tangle of limbs, holding each other tightly. Miranda spoke softly, her mouth close to Andy's ear. "Yes, I can do that and I understand. I'll find a word." Her hands tightened around Andy's back. "I was so afraid that you were through with me."

Andy pulled back to look at her, "I'm far from being done with you." Long fingers caressed up Miranda's back. "Worst two weeks of my life, bar none. I'm still ouchy and bruised. I think you need to kiss and make it better." She pointed to her chest just over her heart. "Right here."

Miranda's hand covered that same spot. "Right here?" She lowered her lips and softly kissed, letting her lips linger before laying her cheek over that spot, in the valley between Andy's breasts. "I would build a home here, right here if I could. Anywhere else?"

Andy cupped the breast closest to Miranda's mouth, offering. "Uh-huh, here." Velvety lips planted a kiss followed by the lick of a warm tongue. Miranda's hand flowed up Andy's body to her other breast evoking a goose-bumped shiver. She lifted her head to the breast filling her hand. "Here too?" Not waiting for an answer, she repeated her loving ministrations, hearing the hissed yes, feeling the arch of Andy's back, as she did.

The caress of fingertips on her cheek brought her eyes up to meet Andy's. Her own lips were traced as Andy answered, "Everywhere." She was pulled up into a kiss that left her gasping for air.

Miranda flowed over her. "Everywhere, I can do everywhere."

The air caught fire between them as Miranda defined everywhere, bathing Andy in a radiance of attention. Lips and teeth grazed over long limbs, tongue teasing the web of fingers, the pulse point of wrists and forearm, the hollow of a throat, the fragility of eyelids, all the hidden places. She found that place on Andy's neck that sent her moaning, her head dropping back, as blood rose to the pressure of a hungry mouth. Tongues tangled, sliding deep.

Legs parted to invite a firm thigh between them, gliding as a liquid path was shared between them. Brazen blue eyes lifted to browns heavy with longing as a hand slid between them through dark curls, slipping through silken folds. The frenzied circling of Andy's hips answered Miranda's touch. Her mouth covered a breast, teeth holding a peaked bud, as her tongue flicked rapidly. Andy's hands buried in her hair, drawing her closer. She circled the dark rose of the other nipple, sucking and teething, the hands in her hair clenching. The rise of hips begged for entry as fluid coated questing fingers explored. Andy writhed beneath her, moaning her need, as waves poured through her, like chocolate melting in the noon day sun, viscous and hot, flowing out from her center. Kisses brushed over Andy's sides, a tongue tracing each rib, flowing over high pelvic bones, circling the navel, darting through dark curls. Miranda's mouth rose to beg another kiss.

Andy murmured against her lips. "Crave your mouth, your fingers inside me, taking me….want you ….please…so ready…" Miranda's tongue captured those words, as two fingers slid inside, following the rhythm of thrusting hips, her thumb flicking, circling Andy's swollen clit. She felt the quick rise of an orgasmic wave as walls rippled and grabbed at her fingers and Andy extended in a high arch, hands clenching on Miranda's back. She kissed that generous mouth and continued down the long line of Andy's body, settling between her thighs as her fingers continue to gently circle.

"Miranda, I don't know if I can come…Gods….again…" Andy lost breath as a tongue delicately traced lips barely glancing over a sensitive clit. Miranda's tongue gently teased and enticed, pulling at that liquid tide she felt growing. Her mouth surrounded and consumed, the fingers already so deep, slowly rolling, building a rhythmic pulse, driving her on. She felt and heard Andy, moan." M'ran, please…"

Hips lifted as she shifted an arm around them, anchoring to the writhing body she had captured. Slowly pulling away, feeling walls grab, she slid a third finger in with the others and pushed deep, her mouth finding a matching rhythm of entry and retreat, begging pleasure from the body below her. Andy came with a deep groan, hips thrusting up to Miranda's mouth, walls pulsing in rapid waves. She took everything, licking and sucking, caressing every ripple, every final wave, until Andy's shaking hands feebly begged for release. She raised, the liquid glint of her lips finding Andy's lips, gently kissing, in-gathering a still shuddering body into her arms.

"M'ran, you send me flying, some kind of falling star…..." She felt Andy's breathe catch.

A feeling of deep unease swept over Miranda, her words coming out disconnected, far away. "Catch you. I'll always catch you as long as I'm able…can't let you fall." The images from her nightmare, watching Andy fall from that cliff caught her. Fear began to pull at her, its web catching her in its strands.

She clutched Andy to her with a sharp cry, "No, no, not again….never again." She forced herself to take deep breaths, pulling herself back to the moment, the woman in her arms. Remembering her promise, She gasped out, "Now, it's happening now, Andréa."

Andy reacted quickly, soothing, hands running down Miranda's back. "Right here, M'ran, we're both right here. Breathe with me. Hear me…come back to me."

Miranda calmed slowly, taking slow deep breaths, forcing herself to relax her hold and grounding herself back to the room and the woman who held her. "Oh gods, so awful. Last night, your nightmare? You said you were falling into water. I've had the other side of that, watching you fall to your death. Not able to catch you. I just lost it. It's more like a memory. Horrible, so horrible."

Andy pushed her back flat on the bed, pressing herself to her side, untangling them but staying close, her voice low, resting a hand flat against Miranda's chest. "I've been having nightmares the last months, getting worse all the time. I think I might know what's happening. I don't even know that I believe this stuff …..Can you hear this?"

Miranda took in her troubled eyes. "Yes, tell me. I'm so tired of this nightly stalking. Anything that can exorcise this, I need to hear."

"I've had this odd sense of déjà vu with these damn dreams. That dream that you woke me from? I'm standing on a balcony with you, holding you, watching a sunrise. Something, the balcony railing, gives way and I twist, pushing you out of the way and I fall, going over the edge. You try to catch me but…. I hear you scream. I fall and fall...endlessly. I hit the water and go deep, can't reach you or the surface. I died there, drowned. And I think this is a past life memory… not a dream."

Miranda went pale, her voice distant. "And I moved into seclusion, mourning you the rest of my life. Dying alone and lost. Oh gods, no wonder I would be so terrified ...so afraid of losing you….."

Time twisted away with a long echo, a radar ping into a distant past, unfolding and spinning back into the now. The rightness hung between them, unexplainable, improvable.

"We'll never know and in the end, it doesn't matter. But I do know you were fated to be mine in this lifetime… and I am yours." Andy leaned in to capture answering lips in a heated kiss, murmuring. "I love you, M'ran."

"I love that murmur of a name you call me." Her body rose to the one shifting above her, dark hair curtaining their faces as Andy looked down at her.

"It's your name from the dream, it fits you." Lips descended, sipping kisses, brushing with muttered words, punctuating each with a kiss. "Mine, all of you. Mine. Right now, right here. Mine. My M'ran."

Miranda's fist gathered Andy's hair at her nape, the last kiss deepening as her lips parted, gently sucking Andy's tongue deep, her body arching up with that sweet ache of insistent heat catching her. Tides passed between them, pulling and releasing.

Andy shifted, the kiss slipping away with a fluid shift of hips. "I hear music when I kiss you, when I touch you." She dragged a hand over the curve from the lower ribs to hip, drawn to the magnet of Miranda's body, just as she had caressed the curved waist of her guitar. Hands lifted to encompass full breasts, pressing them together, a mouth descending, suckling each peak to aching tenderness, hard and full.

Miranda moaned, hips rising, joining to those above her. "You do play me….find all the strings that tug at my insides….love me, Andréa, you take me so deep…"

As Andy slid down, that same curve was gently nipped and licked, a hip bone bitten as teeth embedded briefly in skin by a fiercely loving mouth. A knee was bent, drawn up and spread wide, exposing desire. Andy settled between open thighs, as her tongue dipped into dark, silky waters.

Capturing a hand that slid into her hair, she brought it down, sucking the index finger. "Spread you lips for me, M'ran." Her words pulled a groan as slim fingers gathered fluid and delicately opened inner lips, spreading them to her view.

"Yes, like that….. so beautiful." Andy's tongue danced over silvered, glistening fingers.

"Gods, Andréa….." Miranda undulated up into that mouth demanding more, feeling herself unravel as that tongue found her clit, sucking it up into heat. Andy let her tongue's imagination follow its own course, humming deep in her throat.

"Please, inside...come inside…close, so close…" Miranda's fingers slipped away as a mouth surrounded and fingers moved deep in one slow, complete motion. Andy joined herself to the woman she rode, following the pulse of rolling waves, her tongue matching the rhythm as they spiraled higher. Her fingers unfolded like a flower against demanding walls as Miranda came undone with an arching cry, a bright profusion of exploding colors behind her eyelids.

Andy followed the deep pulses gripping her fingers with inexhaustible gentleness, guiding, knitting back into the heart. Gradually, her mouth released with tiny kisses and she laid her head against a still quivering belly, coming to rest on that warm shore, releasing a sighing breath of ultimate contentment. Her fingers slid away reluctantly and she rose, moving into waiting arms that pulled her in deep.

They lay twined in each other's arms, fingers stroking, kisses finding places to ease, holding, pulses settling. Andy captured a hand and sucked still damp fingers, invoking a sharp breath and a full body shiver.

"You are going to absolutely destroy me, beloved." Stroking across a soft cheek, those same fingers tangled in tousled hair. "I love you, Andréa, completely. I'm going to find every way I can to remind you of that every day."

They were interrupted by the low growl of Andy's stomach." Miranda laughed at Andy's sheepish look. "And that will include feeding you." She kissed her deep. "We're not done here. I have more of ...everywhere… to find." Andy's eyes widened at her words and she gulped. "Talk about destroying….."

She watched Miranda rise and toss her the silk robe from the end of the bed before finding another in her closet, wrapping lavender around her. Andy thrust her arms through sleeves, leaving the belt untied as she rose. Taking in disheveled silvered hair, kiss swollen lips, flushed skin, the deep V of the robe, she surrounded Miranda with her arms. "You look delicious, snackable. Sure you don't want to stay here?"

Miranda slid her arms under the robe, caressing soft skin. "Temptress…." An audible grumble made her smile. "But part of you disagrees." She gathered the robe closed and tied it firmly, capturing a hand in her own. "Come, real food…"

In the kitchen, Miranda busily went about pulling items from the fridge, getting out pans, making more coffee. Andy planted herself on a high stool after her help was refused.

A sound caught Miranda's attention, the vibrating buzz of an incoming message, from her cell phone left on the table the night before. Abstractedly, she reached for it. She read the screen with a slightly puzzled expression. Andy came up behind her, tugging her back into her arms, leaning her head against Miranda's.

"Who was that, love?"

Miranda peered at the phone. "It's your friend, Doug. I didn't know he had my private number."

"I didn't think he did. I didn't give it to him. What did he say?"

She laughed softly, turning to kiss the cheek next to hers. "Make sure she eats!"

Andy laughed with her, "He just does not quit."

"I agree with him, Andréa. Completely."

As they spoke, another message came in. They read it together.

"Nigel says hello."

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AN: Kindly review, please. It would be appreciated. Epilogue to come.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Thanks Weez, love. I am in awe of your abilities in both languages. To TheLadyHoll who suggested the band's name, thank you.

_"The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats..." _

_― Albert Schweitzer _

I'm grateful for the gift of music in my life and saddened by the loss of the other_. Into the light, Domi, you are missed…._

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**Unexpected Grace – Chapter Eleven**

Miranda stood at her office window, watching the flow of humanity from her lofty perch. Sun streamed down to the city streets through the piercing blue of a cloudless spring day. Seeing her own reflection in the window, she raised a hand to trace the smile in the glass, amazed at all that had come to pass in a mere six months.

Runway was just about ready to go live in the next few weeks. Final testing was frantically underway and so far user feedback was excellent. She was glad not to be in the middle of the teeming chaos, which she was assured was really under control. The Book was a thing of the past, now reviewed online. At times, it was hard to let go the control of the processes. But let go, she did.

Her evenings were freed as Nigel and Emily took over the workload. Weekends were saved for her family and friends, the boundaries of which had begun to blend, to her surprise. She had reduced her working days to four, taking Fridays off. Her study had become more of a studio and she spent that Friday drawing and designing, often sharing space with Andy as they both worked. Sometimes, they explored the riches of the city together, opening up a playground of creativity for them both.

Moving away from the window, Miranda turned and sat at her desk, picking up her phone. It had become a depository of the images of her changing life and her growing family. She glanced through the photos she had lovingly captured.

There were the twins in the midst of a snowball fight with Andy. The girls were wary at first but Andy never self-appointed herself to be a parent. She knew that time was needed for any kind of relationship to develop with the twins. She was there consistently, never pushing. She helped with homework, spent time with each twin and the two together, playing, talking, laughing, living. They were easy to love.

The next photo showed a beaming Emily and Serena. They had announced their pregnancy at the three month mark and were expecting a girl. Serena had just started to show and beamed into the camera leaning back into the proud and anxious arms of Emily. They had been over for dinner on the weekend and Miranda surprised them with an early baby shower. This child would have her own Closet waiting for her as she entered the world.

Nigel and Doug stood together in the next photo. Nigel's arm draped loosely over Doug's shoulders as their heads leaned together. Doug's gentle humor and his charming, caring nature were creating a sparkle in Nigel's eyes that she had not seen in years. It made her heart full to see their happiness.

Finally, there were all her photos of Andy. She flipped through them to find that one, the first one and caressed the picture of the sprawled beauteous woman who held her heart. A smile found every corner of her being.

Blushing, she had guiltily shown Andy the photo. Andy simply purred and demanded her own. Her phone now carried the picture of a fully satiated, disheveled, love tossed Miranda. Actually, she had taken quite a few and absolutely refused to erase a single one of her phone candies.

Miranda snapped the phone closed, putting it down on her desk. Her thoughts sobered as she looked at her calendar. She had an appointment later in the day with her therapist. She had learned how to deal with the panic attacks, teasing out their origins and triggers. And no, it had not been easy. Digging deep into hurtful past events was unpleasant and frightening. The process had pulled on every bit of her courage. And Andy was right there every step of the way, loving and supporting. Letting go of the false comfort of control was a painful skin to shed.

Miranda was learning that love was in the everyday moments of a life, the daily choices that come in living in the present. And live she did. Love had become a verb in her life. She carefully chose daily reminders for Andy, ranging from the simple expression of care through the entire spectrum of tokens that lovers gave and received. Most valuable of all was the clear focus of time and the cherishing of the blessing of Andy in her life.

The object of her thoughts was strolling down a street in Greenwich Village, a guitar case in her hand. She had a promise to keep and songs to play for the man who gifted her with the guitar. Her band, Selkie, was doing well and growing in popularity. Wearing clothing created by an unidentified designer and in conspiracy with Nigel, Selkie was the best dressed band in the land, sleek, dark, dramatic and elegant.

Their manager had them booked a couple of nights a week in various venues. Opening for a nationally known touring musician was in the works for the upcoming months. Studio time was booked for the fall with an award winning producer that had caught their act and wanted to work with them.

Andy had left her job at the Mirror and now worked freelance, picking up contracts from different papers and magazines. Like any musician breaking into the business, she needed something to pay the bills as the band grew. The guys were cutting back to part time as well. Her apartment served as a rehearsal space and working studio for Selkie and a refuge when projects caught her creative eye and needed focus.

Late one night, they finally had a conversation about the leather outfit. Miranda had struggled to find words. "When I called you my selkie, something inside me opened up. You became this woman returned from the sea, who had come back to me. I needed to keep your skin with me, to give myself the illusion that you were mine and would never leave me, never to be lost again. You are my selkie, my dark eyed enchantress." Fingers brushed through dark locks.

Andy had quietly nodded. "I'll never be lost or ever leave you of my own choice, M'ran." She half smiled, "Do you think I could enchant them out of your closet and borrow them for a while when we play? You can have them right back."

Miranda's eyes narrowed possessively. "Only, and I do mean only, when I accompany you, Andréa. You're much too hot in that outfit. I've seen how women…and men…. watch you onstage." Kissing her proprietarily, she laughed darkly and added, "There is other clothing in that closet that might be enchanted off ….someone."

"Someone? Would that someone be you?...Just guessing here." Dark eyes filled with warm humor and infinite desire as arms surrounded the smaller woman.

A silvery forelock was tossed from darkening blue eyes as arms slid around to join in the small of Andy's back. "Let's see some enchanting and we can find out."

* * *

Long after midnight, Miranda was awakened in the night by the warmth of a long body pressed up behind her, to find herself nested within the cradling curve of Andy's arms. Fingertips were caressing the curve of her waist and hip, barely touching skin, tracing over ribs and the waisted curve, flowing to the rise of a hip.

Velvet lips kissed the space just behind her ear and whispered, "This curve may be my favorite place on your body, love." Andy sighed softly. "A dream woke me. I dreamed of a moonlit terrace. You were there, curled around me as I played a lyre for you, M'ran."

Miranda turned with a soft murmur, wrapping herself into the arms of her love, her head pillowed by the sleepy warmth of breasts. "Sleep, darling, whatever time, whatever place, we will always find our way to each other."

The guitar rested in the corner where Andy had left it. She had gotten in the habit of playing her newest songs for Miranda late at night before they slept. Miranda would curl around her and listen or sit and sketch as she played. A glint of shifting light caught the dragon gleaming softly in the ebony, creating the illusion of a tail shifting, wrapping around the neck.

Andy caught that twinkle of light and smiled sleepily, settling into the cocoon of warmth they created together. Perhaps one day, the dragon tail would lift off that fret board and curl around her wrist like the Dragon in her arms had coiled around her heart. As she faded into sleep, words came to her…m_agic and mystery ….and unexpected grace._

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Yes, it's complete and ...your reviews are still very much welcomed. Let me know if you liked it or not or leave some other comment. Thanks to everyone that's been reading.


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